You called me a heretic,
as I fought for what I believe
is right.

With my whole heart
I try to achieve
the commandments laid out for me.

I live by The book,
loving Him
my neighbours, enemies and my friends.

Old scars
bring new flesh wounds
as secrets hidden
bring to life
the trials of being human.

Plagued with suffering,
is the test of a follower.
Though I get tired of crawling -
dragging my devout being
through a fallen world.

I have been cheated,
as I have failed.
I say I won't return,
but I never learn.

I have been burned
by that to which I have devoted my life.

Who is a heretic now?

The world is on fire
and we've been burned again
sinners and devout alike.

we present ourselves as perfect manuscripts
nobody sees the crumpled rough drafts and messy handwriting
scattered around the bedroom carpet at home.

nobody has seen the way i've
scratched out parts of myself
that didn't fit into the high school mold
then the parts that didn't fit into my suitcase when i moved away from home

nobody has seen the revisions i've made
do i sound too formal, am i too quiet, do i need to be a little bit funnier in order to be considered acceptable art?

i've thrown entire scenes of my life into the trash
because i don't want anybody to see them and i am ashamed

i sit for hours staring at blank pages wondering how anyone could ever find me interesting enough to spend time with

do you ever feel that way, too?

Tonight I dance,
You called once,
I took that chance,
Waiting for a glance.

Tonight we walked,
You never talked,
Since then i thought
"I waited and rot".

Tonight I listen,
You had suspicions,
And gave me conditions,
In the end you left me

Because of traditions

This is all the dream of a sentient being.
So, when I sleep what am I seeing?
Forgiven transgression. A lonely demise.
A longing inception for only my eyes.
Cling to me, I think you're real.
I think I am, I think I think, I think I feel.
Give me your love so I will know
it's not a charade; Just a part of the show.

I'm normally the bird who sits high in the tree,
not afraid to fly or to be alone,
but sometimes the cold gets a little too cold,
and there are places I want to feel like home.

I don't always want the world to feel like open air,
just waiting for me to fall,
I need to be wrapped up in someones embrace,
and to be protected from it all.

Flying alone in the air is harder than it looks,
my wings are torn and tired
my feet are word and cold
and I need someone to help me
to keep me strong and bold.

Will you be that person?
to protect me from the air?
and what it feels like to be falling,
into the abyss of hell on earth?

Every pigments flash
before our eyes
too fast, too bright
we couldn't grasp,
we couldn't keep up,
we couldn't stop.

Strive to move,
soar to fly.
It will never halt,
it will never falter
Be strong,
Be brave,
live.