Oversleeping in the morning
Talk about False Alarm

Don't let me
Find hope
In words that are
Hollow
And think that
My footsteps
Form patterns
You will follow

Don't say
That I am lovely
Like stars and
Moonlit skies
When we both know
That I am only
Tear stains and
Sad eyes

I want to be rich
I want to have power
I want my every thought
To blossom and flower
Into a new religion
Like a room full of roses.
I want to become
A brand new Moses.

I would write such tales
Of exciting breadth and scope
That any non-believer would
Have to be a brainless dope.
I would invent angels, too
That appear to save us all
And appear and offer words
That back up the worship call.

I will find someplace
Where I could build a church;
Leave all the naysayers
In a theological lurch.
I want to write new rules
Maybe on tablets of gold
And peddle my concept
Until thousands are sold.

Then we can get stronger
And create our own thing
Where hand chosen leaders
Can carry on like kings.
Once they are chosen
Their persons will be sacred.
They will have God’s mandate,
So no human can take it.

Of course we’ll do good things
Like a religion really should.
We’ll do charity and preaching
And do a great amount of good.
But what is most important
And will really make us great
Is to teach our people clearly
Just who they have to hate.

If we don’t approve of them
Heaven will simply be denied;
Just like the Court of Gentiles.
They’ll have to stay outside.
Because I want a religion
Where what I say will be fact
And all of the true believers
Will know exactly how to act.

Everyone pretends to be a saint in the daylight.
But, when the lights go off and the darkness overtakes,
Their hidden demons crawl out and play.

The *** called
The kettle
‘Black! '
The kettle rebuffed
‘***, cry not foul,
Nor must you bark,
While it is stark,
You are a sooty reflection
Of a night, pitch-dark! '

While the blood of children,
The fair-***, the feeble and the old
Is still fresh in their hand,
Perpetrators of genocide
Demand, the less democrats,
Cursed and shunned
From a diplomatic mission,
Must step aside
By humanitarian law
As they don't abide! /

I once lived a night when shooting stars rain down from the sky until morning.
My sight blurred to pastel ball of lights that filled the streets outside my window.
My feet itch to silently walk that empty road,
My eyes beaming with a desire to keep everything inside the pockets of my shirt.

Everything was perfect until the lighting struck, truth carved deep in my skin,
Screaming in a deafening tone that all of it was just a dream.

You made me hope
for something
that only exists
on the pages of a book.