In my thoracic cavity is a clock
that rhythmically sounds tick, tock.
Pumping blood through my body
giving my hands an opportunity
to point out a good quality
And a fault.

It is good that you know I am with you
but a fault is found in this sad room
as sounds of this hospital's gloom
absorb into my aching brain
I almost miss your words full of pain
what you said will always stay.

"I think of days of old
days of gold
days that told
us to cling and hold
onto occasions
that you and I had.
Days I thought could not go bad
  Days I thought could not go bad."

Your clock ticks, but it would not tock
arrhythmic palpitations hold your body in lock
arms turn into stiff, limp imitations of parts
your body can find out how to start
its own trip into that forlorn dark
with no comfort from a singing lark.

I'm no lark, I bring no comfort of dawn
but I'll stay up with you as you yawn.
Your soul's windows full of worry
build up this notion your light will go in a hurry.

I vow to you as your light grows old
that you and I had days of gold
that you and I had days of gold.

Follow the odd northern winds
with just some sense of indifference.
Do not become glued to the ground
its toxicity will weigh you down.
So push yourself up, fly with the wind
twist, turn, spin with the debris.
Twirl with those stuck in the breeze
enjoy the feeling of weightlessness
the kind the ground never could give.
Fly through the sky, throughout the night
do not stop even when it becomes light.
It is best to ignore the ground below
since it is not good for you, trust me, I know.
I just need you to vow to me right now
don't look down
don't look down
don't look down

................................
Reprieve
            Reprieve­
Reprieve
           Reprieve
................................
Life is so precious
when you're the one who's taking it.
I took the life of your friend
Again, again, again.
I'm contracted to take the hit
I know that makes no difference.
The lives you hold so very near
I'll take them from you dear.
................................
Why can't
            my mind
find its
     ease?
................................
I know the position you're in.
I was not born into this.
A hit was placed on my family and friends
to recruit my obedience.
I pretend to be normal
until my contract is signed
and the clever, chaotic side
unleashes on its next sacrifice.
................................
Reprieve
      Rep­rieve
Reprieve
      Reprieve
..............................­..
There is no way to say this
I'm a killer who warps the meaning of justice.
I'll die alone in a ditch
and laugh at my own hopelessness.
................................
I laugh
   at my
own mind's
     unease
................................
Reprieve!
­Reprieve?
There's no reprieve!
................................
Laugh!
Laugh!
Lau­gh with me!
................................

...
..
.
Redemption.
Redemption.
I don't know why I'm chasing it.
I don't know why I'm chasing it.
.
..
...

There's a body on that park bench,
the new attraction in this town.
They don't know how it got there,
but it has certainly been found.
By passerbys who were passing time
seeing the body sitting there
and not saying a word to anyone
because no one cares.
It's just another body
and it gets recorded in the system.
Writing off a human life
as another simple statistic.
Because that's what we are to most
a number thrown around carelessly.
Twisted, abused just to make a point
normally by political parties.
Funny how the body was not reported,
not recorded as a public statistic.
Until the smell of what once was
turned rotten and horrific.
Then it could not be ignored anymore,
people reported its presence
and glared with arrogant eyes
at a shell that once contained a life.
The lack of compassion so evident
that it could make those of good heart
turn to more evil spirits
drinking until they fall apart.
Then the spectators open their mouths
and words of disgrace would escape
assassinating the character of the dead.
Killing them all over again.

I'd have killed them if I could
people like them are no good.



© Tatiana