It frightens me,
To sit in thought,
To think before men have been shot,
To keep alive,
A lie so huge,
It blinds this world in dark deluge.

In advocation,
Of a thought,
That's left this world in shock,
Distraught;
On their knees to say and pray,
Every night,
And every day,
To a Lord they think so far away,
A code of ethics;
"Hate the gays!"

To sit alone in blinding trance,
Let slip all ideas of chance,
"This world did not come to be,
Millions of years ago, no, listen to me,
Your lies of science,
Can't you see?
The governments conspiracy."

It frightens me to know there are,
Men who don't look very far,
They keep it down, so low, the bar,
Of humanity.

"Can't you see,
We're meant to be,
Conformed in happy unity?
Can't you see,
God is meant to be,
The path of the ones who are truly free?
No, because you're ignorant;
You're a disbelieving infant."

"Someday you will,
Be judged in Hell,
To live eternity,
In pain and yell,
'I'm wrong and sorry,
Can't you tell?
Save me from the grace I fell.'"

I am not a lonely man,
Yet their are times when my mind screams,
Because my home, it feels empty,
And my life lacks real theme.

I am not a bad man,
Yet their are times when I can yell;
'You've broke my heart, you've tripped my mind,
You can burn in hell.'

I am not a daft man,
Yet their are times when my thoughts cease;
To figure from the start of things,
Would destroy my inner peace.

I am not the smartest man,
Yet at times my mind will speed.
From start to stop, the pages turn;
I devour what I read.

I am not the coolest man,
Yet to me, that means next to none;
I am and will be who I want,
From myself, I will not run.

I may be a free man,
Yet I lock myself to screens;
I lock myself to schedules,
I lock myself to teams.

I lock myself to a world which says,
'To yourself, you will not bend.
For me you will do anything,
And to yourself,
You will not tend.'

I lock myself to thoughts and feel,
That cause me to believe,
For some incandescent reason,
I owe the world, and weave,
Into the fabric of the rest,
I work for bigger goals.

For me the bell sits silent,
But for the rest, the bell does toll.

There are nights when sleep evades,
My tired eyes; yet thought invades,
To make my hallow head howl loud;
Tonight, you will not find a crowd,
In thronged masses; city streets,
Tonight, no DJ drops his beats.

There are nights when sleep comes soon,
Under the brightly-lit full moon;
My thoughts, lie strewn throughout this mess,
I call my brain; the cut-slack caress,
Of my gift in which I care,
So little for the systems 'fair,'
They tell me structure has it's place,
In this chaos we call the human race;
Yet the guns and guts beg to tell,
A different story, of others hell.

Now I'm not one to run from black;
And I'm not one to move off track,
Yet the beaten trail, I find used,
And along it lies the bodies,
Bruised,
Of those who chased the distant dreams,
Of alcohol and slot-machines.

The TV blares, until nights end;
It tells us fame sits around the bend,
That we do walk past,
Everyday,
Like I can't see the gullible sway,
Towards such lies;
They grow so old,
Around that bend,
Lie's fools gold.

The beat, upon it's own does change,
From black to blue,
And red to gray;
The ones that fear such backlash say,
'Does color matter anyway?'
Is there a separate end,
To night and day?

To say the least,
Time is a lie,
A lie which tells me when I die;
Please, when I die, you can cry,
But not because we won't speak again,
Instead because throughout your veins,
I pulsed like blood, seeped like sweat,
And now all I do, is beset,
Your head with thoughts of then,
Which envelope for the moment, now;
Yet I am still the sweat on your brow,
I am the words you speak,
And moves you make;
I left you empty, in my wake,
And as of now, you must fulfill;
That is my last wish, my last will.

Full of hatred, be mankind,
Yet now the light they've dodged,
Is there to find,
In others words,
There thoughts, in kind,
Twist fervently forwards,
The future in which I won't be,
Our actions made this new man free.

I am, yet then I am not,
For my partial head has caught,
The virus I asked to infect,
To find within our souls; collect,
The universe is large above;
Do you think stars fall in love?

Glassy eyed,
I look at you.
I'm tired, yes,
And so are you,
Yet upon our faces,
We both wear,
Projections that we both do care,
So much for what we both are;
When we're with each other,
Our minds meld,
Like molten iron,
No thoughts withheld;
They say that kisses seem to weld,
Forever stronger than industrial bonds;
Of you, yes, I'm dearly fond.

The King upon the mountain screams,
You must all see, I, too, have cracked seams;
I to am just as flawed,
And now to that,
You must applaud.

For through these cheers,
The truth is shown;
We all have at least one charred bone,

And there is no such thing as being alone.

Young, was this boy,
When his father told him,
"Don't trust another, son;
All people lie, yes, it's grim,
But no one deserves more,
Than you do, you see?
Always put yourself first and foremost,
And stronger, you'll be."

He believed every word,
Stored each in his head;
To him, these were words,
To be believed and not said.

His father taught him,
How to be a true man.
He needed big muscles,
Strong words, and a tan.

He taught him his 'truth,'
For him to hold in his heart,
"What does not **** you, my son,
Makes you stronger, so start,
To take every tough time,
In stride, don't let up;
It is not right to shed tears;
As a man conceals all thoughts,
Of emotion and caring,
Beyond loving yourself;
You can pretend to love one girl,
But keep the truth on the shelf;
Make her work to earn you,
A man like you is a rare find.
Good looking, and tough;
Never tie loves loose bind."

As he grew up,
He'd start fights,
With men,
He claimed did him wrong.
"I have honor!" He'd scream,
This was his self-song;
An anthem, of sorts,
Which carried away,
All the thoughts that he was wasting,
Life, day after day;
Hiding all of his doubts,
Under a mask of pure mad;
Concealing insecurities,
With the punch he did have.

He dropped-out of school,
After his father fell ill;
The next day he died,
From one to many a pill,
Of what he called 'manly;'
Drugs on the run.
He wanted it over,
So he could live and die young.

His son was left lonely,
No family, no friends;
No real ones, at least.
They were just with him,
To enjoy a life short and simple,
One in which they die young,
So they need not endure,
Aching backs, and bad lungs.

It wasn't long before he was alone on the street;
His friends had deserted,
Either died, or hit limits in peaks,
Of drug overdoses,
It had come a surprise.
The cast-iron man,
Stopped when tears reached his eyes.

For two years, he spent,
Alone on the street;
Becoming weaker and weaker,
And his ignored need to eat,
In favor of drugs,
Such as crack,
Crystal ****;
He was becoming beyond words,
An image of death.

One day, he lay alone,
And he cried.
He hated himself for this lie,
He did hide,
Under what was left of his muscle,
His strength, and his words;
Hallucinations plagued him,
Of men with large swords;
Battling each-other,
To retain their true man,
Showing their muscles,
And boasting their tans,
As if mocking the poor,
Lonely, cast-iron man,
Many years ago,
His spirit had ran.

No, more accurately,
His spirit had died;
It had been stabbed far to much,
By those who had lied.

That night he had reached,
The end of the fast lane;
His body died, drenched,
In the cold winter rain,
As he followed his spirit,
To an opposite plain.

Nothing's wrong with this Earth,
It is man who's insane.

I'd like to step foot,
In the land of dictatorships,
Despots,
And dead-men;
To voice my Western opinion,
Through the veil of the immune.

I'd like to step foot,
In the land of the lions,
The gazelle,
And bright birds,
To experience all,
That cannot be said through mere words.

I'd like to step foot,
In the land of old Queens;
The land of abdication,
From which the French coast, it gleams.

I'd like to step foot,
In the permafrost of the north,
And experience why,
Others don't venture forth.

I'd like to step foot,
In the tropics of the south,
Where the rain pounds just like,
A forgotten old sink,
In which the sound is so loud,
You can't hear yourself think.

I'd like to step foot,
On the island of the abnormal,
Off the coast of the near-east,
Where it seems strange to act formal.

I'd like to wade through,
The ocean of men,
In a Tokyo square,
In which you lose count at ten.

I'd like to float forth,
From the bounds of this Earth,
And with my own eyes,
See all life as it's worth,
From our desolate moon,
Watch our world as it rise,
And from eons away,
Watch a star as it sighs.

I'd like to see life,
Through my eyes,
As a prize.