Watch me rise beyond death.
Right past your eyes and hypocritical breath.
With which you prophetically announce,
and so pathetically denounce.
Me in every way possible.
You're a flea, demeaning common day people.
Words completely self-centered and feeble.
May your dreams fester and rot.
Your soul diminish to a dot
Spiritless demon be sickened.
With a liar's oath you'll be stricken.
Sight clouded with the lives of those shot.
Beyond my hate
Or a wish of your hellish fate.
Knowledge that you too, should be saved.
Show an ellipse of a faithful rave.
An open ear, to my following words to be paved.
Maybe a chance will be presented.
A chance to deny hell, lamented.
Make an honest word or fall.
Slip a tear or become a thrall.
An eclipse of the evils to be repented.
Through all of the sin.
And superfluous din.
Of the life we in.
You'll find a truth beholden.
And the chance unbroken.
It's never too late to turn round on your heel
and feel a feeling too real to be left under ground.
Below the surface of your expression.
Answers to an ageless question.
Should I love my above brethren?
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC
Watch me rise beyond death.
Right past your eyes and hypocritical breath.
With which you prophetically announce,
and so pathetically denounce.
Me in every way possible.
You're a flea, demeaning common day people.
Words completely self-centered and feeble.
May your dreams fester and rot.
Your soul diminish to a dot
Spiritless demon be sickened.
With a liar's oath you'll be stricken.
Sight clouded with the lives of those shot.
Beyond my hate
Or a wish of your hellish fate.
Knowledge that you too, should be saved.
Show an ellipse of a faithful rave.
An open ear, to my following words to be paved.
Maybe a chance will be presented.
A chance to deny hell, lamented.
Make an honest word or fall.
Slip a tear or become a thrall.
An eclipse of the evils to be repented.
Through all of the sin.
And superfluous din.
Of the life we in.
You'll find a truth beholden.
And the chance unbroken.
It's never too late to turn round on your heel
and feel a feeling too real to be left under ground.
Below the surface of your expression.
Answers to an ageless question.
Should I love my above brethren?