Producing words to fill the void, Consumes my mind with static.
Your bonds, Commited to your indecisions Until they crash, And I make a face that best Portrays that I might too Find that you yourself construed An oddly placed pitfall Just as unexpectedly tragic.
I can answer your questions With sincere like gestures To fulfill your gaps with validation.
Give your misconstrued attempts An empathic meaning. A destiny, a reason To find false comfort Within a failsafe explanation. A modern day depiction As Adam and eve, Could only survive in Modern day creation.
You can rest assured That in this moment you are living; Count on me to analyze Finding holes in others' lies As if clear vision stripped a man's rights, And I myself have made a victim Of a man wrapped, and strangled In his own less estranged, More confident decisions.
If a tree falls in the woods And no one is around to hear this, Are we not bound by logic sake To eat the lies If all our closest friends, Those hurt most by the truth Would abandon us if only not to hear them.
I rest my ears and count my words. If one day I am recited, I can only hope the words recalled Are by those the world Could not so easily frighten.
I'm a writer of childish whims. To think a man could see his sins, These freedoms from a man-made prison As more than feat of retribution.