I know I'm not an orange, but I feel like one at times.
My heart feels encased until someone peels the rinds.
Now I'm open for the tasting, but something in me dies--
I'll be left as bits of scraps; left to feed the flies.

Yea, I know I'm not an orange, but I'm rhymeless all the same.
To most wanderers I won't fit anywhere; I just can't be framed,
Though, perhaps, some may see challenge for another day...
At least that's the way I think everyone feels, anyway.

Look, I know I'm not an orange, but I feel acidic just like one.
The farmer's hand can't leave me be; the chaos is never done.
So I'm stripped and sectioned off for all the world to own.
I know I'm not an orange; I'm just a citrus fruit with bones.

I hear the trickle of fickle murmurs as they tickle past my ear,
Their intent is ill, but to what extent should I indulge such a thrill?
Fickle tickle, still the clock's tick-tick-tick 'til time stands still,
Leave it all behind me, but never stop lest it catch me in the rear.

I'm here to remind you there's more than just time out there to ****.
You strive to stay alive; others die--what's left for them to fear?
They're escaping all the hassle you're then left to commandeer,
So can you really celebrate when there's chaos for you still?

The fickle murmurs of their vocals squirm about my ears,
They tickle--sure--but nothing greater than a trickle 'cross the gills.
All their malice could fill a chalice (but no room for fuss or frills).
So while the dead are free I'll trickle on as a tickle in your ear.

In this world I cannot hide;
All the monsters are inside,
And they eat me alive...
But I survive--yea, I get another day--
To see all the ways I terrified,
And victimized (it's in their eyes),
In my haste to survive...
Yea, I get another day...
Another day to waste away
So I can claim my own today,
When there's no two ways to say today
That I'm no further than I was yesterday.
The monsters inside who live to prey
Are praying I'll plea for another day;
They're laughing--they're jeering--when I say,
That I'll treat their gift some other way...
They laugh and jive while I'm eaten alive,
Because it's my self-deceit on which they thrive.
They wait inside--I cringe and hide--
And swear that my new day will be new.
But we both know it's not true...
Yea, I get another day...
Another day to waste away on ways to stay;
Ways to stay away from just another day.
So I tell them now--I tell them how--
I'll be someone different...
How I'll strive further,
Push harder.
How I'll love myself like my mother--
How I'll show truer love to others--
And feel a greater bond with everyone and everything...
Yea, I'll tell them the same old thing;
A regular circus; all three rings...
A jester I digest to puke up lies just to justify
Why I somehow deserve another day alive...
Yea, I get another day in this world
From which I cannot hide,
Because the monsters I blame--the monsters inside--
Are just pieces of me consumed by pride.
So what outlet do I have from me?
What chance is there for dignity when all of me
Hungers for misery from the rest of me?
It's those parts of me that haunt me--
What the **** do I want from me?!--
... ... ...
... ...
...
Unless it's not to be in misery.
Unless it's not in me to berate me,
But, instead, to motivate me; liberate me.
What if the monsters in me are torturing me,
So that the lies I feed them become reality?
It's not deceit, I see; it's the truths in me
that push me to push me each day, I see.
Just one more day...
I see.
Because it's in this world I cannot hide,
That I've been hidden to who I am inside;
Hidden from the oaths that I commit,
Just to waste away and then forfeit.
Just one more day...
I've been begging--feeding--for another day; another bore.
But now I'll beg and feed for something greater; something more:
Another day.

The Rise: powerful.
A great reminder of self.
Reflection of Fall.
Don't let it hold; not today.
Please, just keep going.
Propulsion: drive to break free;
Free of the Fall's grip--
Freedom for another day--
And another Rise.
Momentum: back in the game.
The cycle renews.
Driven back to the top now.
Unstoppable now;
Greater than ever before!
Rise above it all.
Look down, laugh; never again.
This Rise is THE Rise!
Never falter; never fall!
No, never again!
Not now that there's--a new doubt:
Just the potential...
Just the possibility...
Momentum plateaus--
It was too good to be true--
Momentum fading.
Should have learned from the last fall;
Should have known better.
Momentum's lost now,
Don't let this Fall be the last.
Reflection of Rise:
Let it hold; another day--
Please, just one more day.
The Fall: unavoidable...
The Rise: powerful.

Fade to scene--pallet: blue and green--wide shot; mood: serene.
Establish view; a stock or few; pan right to view a distant two.
A hazy rim; we cut to *HIM--so *clean and prim--just as we hear the hymn...
A tear rolls down his chin. The brightness dims; music shifts to grim.

Cue the screams; cut the scene.
We're back in the now and the mood is mean.

HE'S back in a view--pallet: black and blue--the shot askew.
The mood's muted; sounds of shooting. Cue dialog:
"Look what you did..."
Camera jerks; extreme closeup: a smirk; let the ANTAGONIST work.
The wire crew's here. HERO sheds a tear. Signal stuntman on the tier.

Orchestra on my mark...
Deliver line then cut to dark.

Light's back to reality. The view won't change, you see.
There's no crew or doubles. Just a wide sea of troubles.
No second shots; no calling "CUT"; it's all open-shut.
It's not like a filmmaker's lens; it's not just pretend.

Let me script this out what you're all about:
An overconfident lout, but backlit with doubt.
All part of a cast, direct you like I did the last.
I see that you're furious, but you're hardly fast.
Now I'll produce the fear as the shoot draws near--
I've got the schedule set; we're not finished here!--
You're calling "cut," but I'm just cutting you more,
And then I'll edit you out on the cutting room floor.

I appreciate that you feel you've come so far,
But never forget this is MY movie, and I'm the STAR!

They told me to not go silently to that good night,
That I should never give in without giving a fight,
But I've bathed in the beams of the silver moonlight.
And I'm here to tell you that I went with the night.

It's not out weakness, nor desperation nor fright,
And I'm not here to tell you that it's not worth a fight,
But there's much worse monsters that occupy light;
Ones with far more malice, and a far sharper bite.

It's all about heart; not what's wrong or what's right.
You're judged by your merit and by your insight.
We're led by our spirits; we're not led by our sight,
We--all of us--who have joined with the night.

So slip free of your anchors. Let your true self take flight.
Shed away all regrets--you're held down by contrite--
And bask in all that represents your delight.
I come not with demands, you'll choose what is right,
But I'll confess to you now: I went with the night.

It's like a holy war
When the masses march upon me.
The whole scene leaves me sore--
A hole seen by those who soar--
And, broken and bloodied,
I grin up at them and ask for more.

It's like a holy war,
And its when those holy *******--
A horde, a mass, of masochistic masters--
Hone on me like a holy task, there's
No greater sight for my eyes to see.
When they're still so certain;
Certain that the unholy one is me.

Twasn't me that drew this curtain,
And I ain't the one that's hurtin',
When they make their deals with devils.
See, it isn't standing up to rebels
When your convictions tremble;
It's your morals that need sortin'.

In this war of a devils against devil,
It won't be the youngbloods left to revel.

Come at me with your holy war--
I've fought before and demanded more--
But you'll come to find that what's in store
Will be far greater than what you're aiming for.

I don't see why you can't admit it:
That you've become demons, just like I did.
Yes, there's a darkness within me,
But, as the villain you want to see,
I'm afraid that I just can't take credit.
When the greatest sin that I've committed,
Was shedding light on all that you all did.

The air was thick with rancid hate as we squared off in the mist of night.
There was no words--no grunts nor groans--that oozed past sneering
lips. It was a rustic sort of torture; the time slithering between you
and I, as we each came to grips that only one could anticipate the
dawn. Oil stained the rain-soaked way; the alley shimmered in
the moon. I couldn't recall what had brought us there; what
ill-will we shared. And though your eyes shone with scorn,
I swear you felt the same. It was then the hatred started
rolling like a current 'cross my back; as though the
energy inside of me was fighting to break free.
I watched with eyes uncaring as the glass
began to break, and scattered bits of this
and that began to whip about! You had
never known me well enough to truly
know what lurked within, and as
your startled eyes betrayed your
fear I knew that I'd already won.
So much viscous agony--such a
glorious defeat--a body left in
ruin. I stared at what I had
done, awash in a morbid
optimism, and I saw the
shards of glass twinkle
under a cracked light.
Consumed by the
sight, I saw you
sink into a sky
of oil and filth
and eternal
blackness.
Your
own  
urban
starlight.

Between you and I: eternity,
An empty space that weighed a ton;
The silence howled like a banshee.
I had hoped that you might run--
Might sacrifice your dignity--
But you stood firm; what's done is done,
And we held tight our weaponry;
My grip was white around the gun.
We couldn't bring ourselves to see,
There there was only room for none;
That was the end of you and me.

The world was stunned as the a Dark One fell,
His legacy blooming like a black-petaled rose.
The thorns pierced through the eyes of man,
And the Devil cried with me.

He showed the frozen skin of morals--
With gaping pride and ******* strength--
Adorned and caressed by machinery.
And the Devil cried with me.

There was babies in the barrel,
And an alter upon the horns.
******* cries far-and-wide.
And the Devil cried with me.

Harmonics perching on twisted limbs,
And darkness bursting from our chests,
Our greatest nightmares echo His sinister sight...
And the Devil cries with us.