Sudden arrest of a newbies last beat The heaven of angels in unsown retreat the build the divide the sorters last query folds under the
tongue of liars defeat as the way of our walking retreads it's own view the catalysts cataclysm renders me new
And the whole quake of emptiness battles my head asthe muse with her wander to the fiery edge does cast out intrusions beyond what we're fed

I've warapped,
With much consternation,
My years in you,
Without hesitation.
I adorned myself
With framed sheep skins,
Kept your eyes glittering,
To be more appealing.
You pressed your nose
Against the shop window,
Longing for the man
In the red suit.
I forgot about the ribbons,
You misplaced the bows.
I lied to some Santa,
Many years ago.

By Arcassin Burnham


Walking Through a lot of dead shadows,
Dirt covering the coffin leaves a dry rose,
We-don't-want-no-one-to-know-we,
Exist..

The troubles of the world creates a wormhole,
For the fears that you posses and brewed up on a clean stove,
Theres-no-need-to-worry-we'll-be,
Okay..

Might Have dealt with some issues in the pass,
Girlfriend left you for a guy that drives fast,
You-hope-they-just-both-end-up-in,
a crash..

But There is no need to be so hateful,
In a world of sin and people raised shameful,
Why-don't-you-just-be-your-own-man,
today..

You're going to be running for a long time.
Your eyes are on the finish line, your eyes are pointed towards-
What was that? Happiness?
No, that's not what you're chasing.
You want to be better than them, but that's not being happy
Because, and I'm sure you know,
It's all
A
Competition.
You run and you run and you fall and you get back up
To beat them, of course. To show that you can go further
You can push yourself to do whatever they're doing
(Your friends, your enemies, what's the difference anyways?)
But a thousand times better.
Better yet, make that a million.
What you don't understand though, is that the tables have turned
And now it's a race to see-
Who's sadder? Who's suffering more?
Nobody pays attention to what you feel, you think to yourself.
You have to show them. You have to fight.
Show them you're hurt or make something up!
As long as the attention is on you!
Are you happy? No.
Are you successfully taking advantage of others' pity?
You're **** right.
But it's all a race, a fight, a competition, a
Pile of crap, that's what it is.
You won't get anywhere pushing yourself to be more ******* up
You think you're outside of the box and unique because you have feelings.
You're just like everyone else, you don't even try to be happy.
Have fun fitting in with those who bury themselves alive.
It's not a game.

The ball flies fast,
from player to player like giant pinball,
each touch is a score,
for each pass is a telepathic reward,
of hours spent honing skill and strategy,
friends playing friends achieving their dreams,
to show the world on game day your skill unbound,
there is escape for those on court and of court alike,
the worries gone replaced by the battle of mind and body,
only the ball matters,
a pass high above the hoop leads to alley oop,
the crowd cheers and your heart is gleeful,
for the art is witnessed by all.