My tale is one of impermanence.
Waste this life,
Lament the next.
I Breathe,
simply
As a reflex.
Children enjoy the show,
I know all the magic tricks
So I sit in the back looking for other distractions.
A million times or more
I've seen bulls slaughtered on the stadium floor;
Dying to the thunderous roar
Of people's silent indifference.
It doesn't make any sense.
And the tears don't fall like they used to.
After a while you gain a disdain for the world and how it used you.
Every now and then it gets too much to bear.
I sought escape but couldn't find it anywhere.
Maybe my chances will be better in the next,
Or ,maybe,
I'll be lost in the process

It's disheartening to see sparks that once caught your eye slowly flicker away and die. I think on how long I carried the flame. Has it been long?
How many people have looked into my eyes and saw the fire waning? Now the smoking ashes of a once memory flutter in the wind like butterflies in migration. Where do they go? I don't know nor do I care anymore...

And so
The wind changes
The birds sing along.
I'm going to Dakota
Where the cold silence is understood.
As the rose blooms,
My grip loosens;
The thorns didn't hurt very long.
"Why haven't I done it sooner?"
I guess I just wanted someone to feel the pain I feel.

I'm sorry
I tricked you
Into loving me......

The day will come
When taking a ****
Will Seem a task greater
Than storming the beaches of Normandy.

On that day,
My bones,
Like wind chimes
Singing in the wind,
Will burn
A dull but ever-lasting flame.
A dying star
Taking its last breaths
And all will stand in wonderment
Asking themselves
"What now"
But only I will know.

From ash
A Phoenix rises
Only to fall again-
But I'm just  
A raven
Cawing
My way to escape.

Our  skin is
                   Bats
blindly
        fluttering in the night.

The melancholy
Settling
          on our bones
Is an old man
Spending
                    $100
At a ******'s
In exchange for
Some pretty girl's
                                 attention.

Our heroes
              are Silver plated
But
               Cast in clay.

What is there

Left
          To say?
Life has conned us all

            As dried leaves
Scorched

                    Under sun rays
Fall

Without dancing in the wind.

We were meant to
  
               Glide up
In the sky,

While stars look upon us
    
                           And cry.

I've nary a use for dreams.
Stifled memories and obscenities
Created by a tortured mind.
The real world
With it's dangerous and deceitful
Seems more kind.
Nothing left to find.
They continue to sell us the dream of the universe.
"New adventures"
It's like new love same lame heart.
Somewhere along the way
We've lost our art.
What use is a dream
When reality has become absurd

No one has answers.
You can ask priests or rabbis,
But they take everything on faith.
And the redeemed vehemently believe, the innocent wonder why bad things continue to happen.
No one has answers.
My words, in some semblance of hope, carry me day to day.
I randomly want to break out in tears-years of repressed emotion no doubt-
But I stifle them back for another time.
I don't know why.
No one has answers.
Every good thing in life can be quantified and sold, by those who scheme or dream. No one knows the fiber of our being or our meaning. We drift endlessly at sea. "Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink." Innumerable bodies floating around, too many thoughts to think.  
Our eyes, in pain mirred,
Leave much to be desired;
Knowing, after all these years,
We have come to no greater conlcusion:
We all sail in confusion.
We assail the demons inside,
But they never truly die-
We just learn to live with them.
We never win,
And I don't know why.....