On a sunrise as in a thought.
We are lost for choices become hollow as
the smile becomes a mask.

Shackles cut into flesh trikles down the wrist
traces of the remains of what never shall be.
In a morbid sense i respect the empty hours
and cherish this isolation like mistress
that wait's for my return.

Flesh for canvas painting's in tone's no longer
a direction slowley we drift.
Taken from the scene another will always replace.

As a wheel has no end the start is a mystery
none care to solve.
Why mask reason when insanity we share?

Whom will erase my page?
Only to recreate my line.
Im headed for that slow decline.

In delusion I exist as in darkness
I fade.
A scroll none can see.
A vision seldom shared.

To gasp for air is to strangle apon
life the empty words crash to collect dust
in my cluttred life's floor.