One must be remiss when their prospects of bliss. Will abandon all reason to blend with decay. A banquet of fools in the lunatic season. The cards that I've dealt are so vulgar today.
Darkness stretch these realms that taint me. On these sheets forever curled. She who drew the light from shadows. Never shall again be held.... Spectre of the idle hours.
I had to face you again. I had to taste you once more. Alone, I had to hit that wall. With you as my mentor. . And watch my wretched flesh rot. Inhaling the stench of regret.
The change is made within an innocent breath. A veil around an existence. Accursed with a solitary death. Dancing a line of unending decline. Over chasms I knew not to be.
Do I only have conviction. When my opinion lives in isolation?. Is this portion of reality. A frail and tangential foundation?. . Who mapped the course.
I fear the path we walk is my decline. That greater deeds, through fate, I shan't perform. So long was spent defining how to shine. 'Twas never learnt that rays are best when warm.
Where once a naive child learnt the ropes of life and pain. An ashen path has forged to view those remnants with disdain. As leaves descending earthward are a seasonal display.
You see me hang my spirits high. My dirty linen's out to dry. I've sought not freedom nor espy. . Placating reason in the rhyme. A vindication of my crime.
The night sky lights the fallen star. To hold us in its grasp yet mock us from afar. As cancer holds us all askew. To mourn the dying now and start a life anew.
Thirteen years. Inside your play. To rise one day. And find you dead. The world had fled. With much unsaid. My last paternal kiss. . Thirteen years. I missed your touch.
My better self was always born tomorrow. Though the wings of failed seraphs I would borrow. As nights became obsessed with introspection. The days a contravention of reflection.
When they finally claim you. All matter will cease, all dreams will expire. And with a dead angel's touch. And the loss of myself. The vapour will fade.
Chagrined, I lie ensconced between the dreaming and the dead. Let my eyes perceive degrees and not directions. For the sanguine expectations that embellished prior years.
Immutable, in mists of gold beyond this Acheron. How grandiose the touch will be when each caress is gone. How bitter rests bereavement on the souls of those bereaved.
A mighty and unprecedented thought. A vagrant memory from wilderness. Where the civil and the servant are sought. And tracing living death is frivolous.
Women and children are all covered in blood. Innocent victims run for their lives. Bullets are piercing the smoke-filled air. Pains your body like a thousand knives.
I've done things in the past that I'm not proud of.. But I can't say that I have regret all the things that I've done.. Cause they made me what I am today..
It's you against us, everyone on me. All on their own side, but my side's the right side. Scattered people with broken minds. Same perception but different approach.
Stand up, stand tall. Stand firm on your ground. Be strong, be proud. Shout out make a sound. . You see who I am. You take what you want. You give what I need everyday.
You find yourself in a snakepit much deeper than your soul. You can't be proud of what you are. I see myself, looking down, laughing in your face. Your death is not my scar.