:
The weight of what I'm carrying is heavier with you
the bruises on my back are turning black as I turn blue
This body once a ticking clock is losing track of time
and now the only hands I hold are breaking both of mine
The keeper of my tendencies is shattering my bones
subjecting them to rulership of everything he owns
The only things I haven't lost are pieces of my head
the thoughts forced into dormancy because of what you said
And they have been my hiding place for longer than I know
though entropy displaces me whenever I do go
The journey back to where we are is always just the same
exasperating both of us despite what you can claim
I want to leave and so I stay, my reasoning will prove
that it is here, in front of you that I dare not to move
.

everything that's simple is so empty when it's changed
delivered in a way the ones who listen are estranged
to bear the thought alone, from such a tilted point of view
will relegate the truth and make it malleable for you
but it won't lose its potency, no, nothing will be lost
the only ones affected be the people it exhausts
they'll find a way to punish every judgment on their own

...
..........
....

a testimony certain when its spoken in that tone
and proof will be a metaphor for what's inside their heads
the thoughts that they awaken every morning from their beds
"now tell me what you're seeing so that I may also see"
and quell the curiosity that's stirring up in me
the waves will not be violent and in time will not exist
a placid sea of sameness come and no one will resist

Come walk around the earth
with me to justify its truth
to hold it in the way you walk, in everything you do
...
..
.
And as your feet begin to bleed from wandering about
you'll feel the weight of everything you carry coming down
It's in the fall, the season too, the ground is turned to clay
we tread this time more heavily, the months pass like a day
And when the mud is thick enough we'll put away our will
beneath the dirt of what we know's impossible to till
.
..
...
For you and I this doesn't mean that we were never here
but rather we had chased the
wind in which we would appear

I can feel the numbness, it's coming on again
and gradually depleting what I did not defend
The sources they are many and all of them verbose
cacophony symbolic of everything they know  
They're speaking in a language they thought I'd misconstrue
but I have been decoding by watching what they do
Remember how you got here, I ask myself a while
and more so why you stayed then, to go the extra mile
But when I pose these questions, I start to hear them quell
their little tiny voices in hopes that I will tell
I've surely been too careless in giving out my words
forgetting they are taken the moment they are heard
But if there's no reversing, no backwards other way
I know I must continue and say what I must say