The man on the moon, you see
He has a few friends

He's perfect and broken
And is kind to no ends

I believe he is lonely
Floating gently in the sky

Even if you whisper him your secrets
He'll never tell you why

His pain is unmatched
Yet he's beautiful all the same

Even when he looks at perfect stars
He casts them no blame

And I find it comforting
Looking to him at night

For he taught me even in dark
There is a way to find some light

underneeth my skin
A devil plays within
lights my head to blazes
as the fire rasies

A call I hear
as It draws near
a angel amoung the fire
as something begins to transpire

The angel said his name
as I drown in pain
but the angel made feel it
the feeling of being a bottomless pit

but I kept marching ahead
soon I felt mislead
but the name pushed me through
and soon I felt good as new

and the name that helped me coup
was named HOPE

The sound of silence
is like feeling the wind but not seeing it
The sound of silence
is like a bell that moves but does not chime
The sound of silence
is like crying without sound...

I’m so tired of it all
And all I do is sit will tears
I just want to end it all
I just disappoint my pears

Tired of lies
And tired of this way
Tired of my eyes
And tired of pain

Numb has me in a grip
And it’s not letting go
So I hope to wither away
I wish to die

Why am I stuck here?

~
celebratory,
fluttermoth-like
boys and girls
born at the turn of the century,
and so suddenly out of time,
discarded at the gates
of a last-century neutral zone,
left as unicorn,
imaginary and pure,
somehow worth less than the price
of admission to a festival,

but this isn't God's will...
~