You parade they kids like a trophy
You tell me what I've missed
Crying, ***** nappies, and ****
Sure it must have been bliss
But you’re right
You have something to show
Blossom and grow
Something I’ll never know
But do you know what
I’ve seen a thousand sunrises
Killed all around the globe
Cried for the sake of crying
And yes, I’ve got nothing to show
But would I change it
Hell, no
So, ask the question
Why
Do I want to die
The answers no
Yet  the fear takes me back
Not so cool
Excitement, that’s for fools
Graves are full of those
I have this recurring dream about life
The clock is ticking down
I need to get to the otherside
But its never there
The search will end someday
It will be time to go
The clock is ticking for the life I know

I was made to turn
The page
To
A new chapter
Of rage,
Renewed
In amor
Today!
No longer
Encaged,
But I escaped
To a grace
Of epiphany
Place

I am just another doll lost in the marionette holocaust

A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness in the wood

He sings to cheer his solitude
With sweet sounds noone's ever heard




"In His Land of Dreams"

this house;
too dark, too quiet;
an unknown abyss.
tenants leave after six months;
running out screaming.

in this house,
*even the ghosts are haunted.