It came in the night
A sweeping arrow of light
Cutting through the darkest grotesque
A frightening blaze of sinful death

The lights, the noise, the people.
Life seems so much of a blur
They will come, they go, they pass me by
But I with not so much as a stir.

So  easily I will be forgotten
So easily they lose care
The time will come for them to remember
And I will no longer be there...

I will be gone like the birds in the sky,
And the wind through the trees,
And the dust in the air.

My presence will leave not a single goodbye,
Nor shadows for my heart to share.

The winter never has felt so cold my friend
For I am awaiting such an imminent end.

Who would have thought that the birds and the bees
Only truly lived amongst the greenery of the trees
To hear their cries and the Nymphs' pleas
Not once to reflect what would become of the leaves...

I turn to you,
The blinding light that engulfs my presence.
You watch my suffering,
My painful, sadistic dreamings.
I lay believing,
Beseeching normality,
Plagued by vicious thoughts...

And I seek your comfort


Will your blinding light,
Luminous in my darkness
Numb the pain?

Are you my anesthetic?
Am I just--
Just the shallow conspiracy I am made to be?

My painful endeavors seem brutal...
But the cruelty lies in *you

I close my eyes
But the reality haunts my dreams.
I open my eyes
But it is the reality that dissipates before me.

Eyes open, Eyes closed.

When reality and fantasy merge
What can I believe?

What incorporates my dreams and fears to the realistic being?
Must I live my life turning, spinning
With eyes converging?

My eyes are open
My eyes are closed.

My mind and body dwell in different beings.
Don't turn away from me as you burn my hollow essence.

I live by bleak confusion.

Nothing more.
Nothing less.

A song, a cry, a slither of rain
Chaotic words extinguish the flame
A weeping heart and bleakness to see
Scorch and churn on the brink of insanity.

Where lies the end of the burning pleas
That scolds with fire of the quivering seas?
Tranquil and serene in blades of grass
And clouds that wade and fade to pass?

Though misery deceives the shout from the dusk
Demanding time but ever so brusque
To wait the tables of the turning dark
Or forever catch songs of thou immortal lark.

The time may come to smolder the kindle
And smother the darkness that may still dwindle
Amongst these walls that caress the heart
They lie amidst the shattered start
Beseeching the while for the sanest depart...

Why do they leave me the colour of Death
With sobs of blooms entwining my breath

'I am what I am' that is what they say
And I scream whilst I carry an endless dismay

Is the rueful sorrow that carries me home
The same attribution that leads me to roam?

Is it not unfair how they follow Death
Through a peaceful endeavour despite such a depth?
But how can I follow one such as Death
When the one such as Death is I?