Our love was like those cigarettes you smoked,
so hot it can put a hole in your heart,
the smoke fills our veins and we began to choke,
and the cigarette died before the fire could start.

The euphoric feeling of my dreams slipping through my grasp,
to light headed dreams from time wasted,
insatiable hunger which eats relationships alive,
followed by a deep sleep to forget all my pains.
When I reach for that next hit,
that next wake-up punch in the face,
digging myself into this deep pit,
starting out fast, with no pace.
Soon this drug fueled fixation will me a dream,
a forgotten memory of desire and doubt,
something that died when it hit my blood stream,
drowned in a high created by this drug drought.
Alas, this is not how my life is meant to be,
with convictions and morals which were clear,
I was a man who was meant to be free,
now I am a man, owned by fear, for the sake of cheer.

Early morning mist is floating around,
with the hawks flying high in the sky,
I sit alone without a sound,
as I watch and animal about to die.
Swift like lightning a hawk flew down,
gripping a rat by the spine,
as the red began to replace the brown,
I take this death as a sign.
Here I sit alone and confused,
looking into the future of my demise,
death by hawks within due to strife.
My opportunities I abused,
constantly taking my eyes off the prize,
with my back protruding a knife,
a hawk came down and stole my life,
I refused to look into the skies,
and due to my confidence misuse,
from this life I was excused.

Your heart is the sun rising after a storming night,
illuminating my darkened insides,
making it flourish with light.
Your eyes are the all seeing god which leads me to life,
protecting my soul,
decimating all strife.
Your skin is like a warm blanket on a winter's eve,
filling me with emotions,
warming me while I grieve.
And lastly, you are life,
the life that I lost,
that someone else tossed,
the one you picked up off the ground,
cared for and shined,
made me feel safe and sound.
You are the life that once was gone,
except creating a midday summers shine,
compared to a dark days dawn.

We will all live and die,
chasing after those fireflies,
like our dreams illuminating in the night,
only to disappear with flight.
As we reach and ****** and miss,
stumble until the ground we kiss,
And some quit and go back home,
but others hearts are made of stone.
While the others feel the pain of failure,
the driven ones push on with valor,
but soon daylight comes and the sun will rise,
and then we can count our fireflies.

I am why the bell tolls rings,
full of death, pain and hurt,
filling hearts with tears of dread,
for I am why the bell tolls ring.
I am why the church gathers,
gaining support under God,
living through fear of me,
as I am evil's epitome.
I am why you succumb to crime,
hurting others for your gain,
I am the one who passes time,
making your end seem closer.
I am fear and loathing too,
filling your mind with confusion,
I am who makes you feel blue,
as I steal life's illusion.

Art is an obscure excuse for a lowlife to vent,
speak of how one's perspective is wrong,
as they do not ideas circumvent,
because they are too busy singing their song.
Art is a way for someone to withdraw,
live in their own world,
creating their own law,
complaining of how everything is world.
And with this ponderous excuse that is art,
we become something.g different,
revolving away from the start.
With the beauty that is art,
we can state *******,
to the ones who tore us apart.
With the significance of art we can relate to each other,
appeal to the masses,
but not be a bother.
And lastly, with art, we can learn how to live,
through showing our souls,
With this art that we give.