Dream of life,
A shell of a man,
Walk the world,
A zombie.

Frightened as a cyclopes,
With two eyes,
Making a statement,
For all mankind.

God's little creatures,
Drinking the forest,
Through their feet,
And olde cartoons.

The sands of time,
From the hourglass,
Drain through the,
Hands of the chieftain.

Demons in the fog,
Their smiles luminating,
And made of corpses.

With no where to run,
And no where to hide,
Many people can't explain,
The knife in their hand.

Drained from their lifeless,
And made to dance,
With no sense of,
Remorse towards it.

Nobody tells you how,
Nobody tells you why,
In the wind,
Fish swim in magma,
And frogs have sequence.

They laugh at the chaos,
Hope for the return,
Of their master,
The drained man.

With no emotion,
After a date with,
His drained life.