It's a quarter till Midnight

And the darkness whistles in my ears

Bristles are split by the weary spears

From the hands of pall bearers

Lifting hundreds from one abyss to the other

For life is circular in natural stone boulders

Scriptures are faded by dust and wind

Left as hieroglyphs by the ancients

Whom wished to give knowledge to the world

Knowledge of architecture, agriculture, and spirits

The curves of Mother Earth and the voice of Father God

Although the closest to God is a mother

Who gives life, a super natural ability, and honor

It's eleven till Midnight and light floods my room

For just on the other side of a few inch thick door

Lies a man with a gun, a 40, and an attitude

Engaging the neighbors beneath and beside him

Laughing from the turmoil of the day

While shifting his eyes to hide tears

As his son is in the hospital but his sons mother despises him

For he had no time, therefore no interest

In the seed he had planted in a one time plastic *** from Home Depot

It's eight minutes till midnight and I miss the moon

I'm too fearful to leave my door

As I watch videos of idiotic and moronic

People's who want to change the world

With no plan, only a vision, of milk and honey flowing

Work is a theory and talking matter

It is an excuse to imbibe coffee and consume pastries  

For ideas are more interesting than actions

For those who use actions are mere talking points for gossip

It's four minutes until midnight and my life isn't mine

It hasn't been mine for years

Since my inception I was fed lies, just like you

The newest lie is I should be happy

The second newest lie is I should be sad

The third newest lie is that my brother will get better

Because how can one become better...

If born from an incident

As a result of negative consequence

It's two minutes till Midnight and I know he never had a chance

I would give up my life for his

But it would change nothing for our parents would still cry

For my actions have been misleading

And he has been stripped of what was rightfully his

A chance to live his own life

It's midnight and my thoughts devour my soul

In the form of shadows dancing along the walls of my bedroom

I wish I was a dream weaver