"Crazy people don't think  they're crazy."
I've been thinking; contemplating my own sanity,
and I'm sure that I'm definitely insane.
So what the hell does that make me?
Am I as a being certain of it's own demise,
A being that has darkness and uncertainty fill it's eyes?
while it stares at the stars and cries:
"Why have you forsaken me?"
But the sky replies:
"Why can't you stop chasing me?"
Because it's unnerving;
that we're all desperate for what we're not deserving,
and I'm learning
that we've got what we need,
but we take what we please
until they're all on their knees
and we feel we've "earned" prosperity.
But. We. Haven't.
It's all in our head;
our sick little dream makes me wish I was dead.
Because when It's over; and all's been said,
you can't go to heaven with a heart full of lead.