When the nerd in the back dies with complexity
of not sharing simplicity
of not getting acknowledgment
of not receiving enjoyment
What is there to live for
with the dark days ahead
and the ruined ones behind
what is there to live for
other than the lonely scorch ?

I ask myself on single days
why do wait,
why do sing
to a lonesome soul
or a high pitched scream?
lonesome thoughts
swarm through my brain
wishing the better
of every single day
wanting with heart
craving with soul
what is there to live for
other than that 6 foot hole ?


The nature dies along without a cause
The fire burns singing screaming songs
when the old crow hackles
when the little mouse rants
I'm going to be hanging
from a little unknown branch
praying to my soul
praying for life
When that old crow hackles
Ill be sitting on a  mantle
with thee only thing left but
the ashes of my neck
What is there to live for
when I am only a spec ?

Questions like those,
come and go,
yet one always stays
which one I will never know
Along with the dreams
of a broken pain that lasts
Along with wishes
of a sad whimsy past...