They say suicide is for the weak, the selfish
at this I ponder is the entirety of life not suicide
breathing toxic air, relying upon corruption to save us
stuck within a cycle
we have our smokers, drinkers, drug addicted
riddled with pain each and every one of us
yes life can be a song, we all smile
but inevitably life feels like suicide when eyes open to look
and I wonder should I not be the one to say how I go
and not you death, not you corruption
let me sing you a little song as I tip my glass
song or suicide
the answer lies only in you

He had become a God
standing atop the world
looking down, knowing
anything could be achieved
in that moment, realization struck
he leapt from the highest peak
the wind whispering her secret
finally free
the trees grew majestically, closing in
the birds whistled a sweet melody
the water danced, awaiting eternal embrace
he forgot all the pain
free falling
time froze and he smiled
his last smile, for the Earth
goodbye

are dreams merely an oasis
materialized to sustain us on a day to day basis
some can so easily be consumed
day to day life incapable of being resumed
always turning back to the way of a madman
seeking to find in their own mind utter bedlam
say the same things over and over again
place your heart in a headlock, lay the blame
when will it change, will it ever
or shall we lie in illusions of a pointless endeavor

clawing at my mind
memories that are not mine
implanted as a powerful seed
hunger for more fueled by greed
envisioning surreal landscapes, places never seen
only within an imagination exists a country so serene
for it is not this era that I breathe
rather a time when the land was cherished beneath
footsteps resound down a dusty, old road
I watch breathless while the sands of time erode
phasing into the future, a place where I do not belong
the strings in my mind strum a sad, mournful song
as these strange memories align
memories that are not mine
thoughts from another time
one in which by chance existence was a bit more peaceful
perhaps memories are just as deceitful
when they are not mine