If it's the farmer's will to harvest this ****
Fill it's heart with anger for it to feel no thing
Before the sap from it's core flow out of it's leaves
The blood on its vein dry up in the heat

For wrath makes a good reliever
From all the roots that was beneath her
Dig it up from it's grave to deliver
And rip it up from the soil and repocess her

For a **** that brings no good
A pest that steal for food
A Vulture that rejoice in death
Is there such a thing as regret?

For the weeds were made bad
From the earth exhalted
To the heavens departed
What mercy can this **** plead?

A **** that churns good air we breath
A rat that for others is a treat
A vulture that completes the cycle of death
Is there a room for forgiveness and help?

If the time for this **** to take a bow
Send it of in ways where no pain is allowed
Like a switch of a bulb turn off it's light
Stop it's breathing in an instant

I feel like a child
being scolded
rebuked

The next like a woman
being praised
exhalted

With a single sentence
you can grab me by the throat

And with the next
release and make me moan

It is clear to me now
my power next to yours
is a feather in a knife fight

A wispy plight in the face of fright.

filter through the inner mind
where solace binds and reason is there
for I hear inner voices in my head with choices
the ****** on the street searches for his pay
a noble church goer bows there head to pray
there are marks of discovery in each of us
yet I'm half the man I used to be
falling by the road side scattered in my mind
it's the fortaste of things to come
a world undone
the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision
sought after fix the issues inside
hide behind a false hidden garb of compromise
twisted lies with no surprise
a vision of crystal clear twilight
tripping out in the forest
green moss scattered by the features
it is hard to hold on one more trip & I'll be gone

yet I'm not dead the forest has trees through the breeze
a sorted cosic debris of fallen emblems
tuck back the vision down deep inside
this forest has a stone carved pattern inside
my heart permeates through the duration of reason
words can be lost if not chosen right
a black cat leads me to a pool of water where I quench my thirst
look back at the vision in the water I see a face
voices in my head its the walking dead
yet I like it when they talk about love
call it fate I call it a reason for being in the changing of the season

we run to and fro into the outer banks of the forest
dead flowers all around with emmense changes
the cloven asps of suspicion you got to get away
bones of skulls permeate the textual lining
some say I think to much
in are world in quite a rush
getting ready for the heavy push
to take us over the edge
the intense heat of fleeting passion
the zombies of *** are at your door
screaming of exhalted primitive choice
living in caged fury so why should I wonder