Write... and free your soul... |
Write, Child Write, child, write You whisper such harsh words to the paralyzed Well, I will write, sir I will write until my bones creak under the pressure They will bend and break ooze and scream out in terror I will write until existence is only the perceived affection of pen to paper Yes, I hear those words you sweetly designed for me I hold them in my soul of a thousand daggers Certainly, I will reach inside those infested waters, Pulling out this hand of solidly torn oak And cease the crescent waters of healing I will burn in this disaster But, I would rather have it in your sight Instead of by the words of false idols And uncontrollable desires of the suburban beast I am yours And they cannot break this creation Your creation And yet, their tainted, twisted words of fire and tar Stir and mix Boiling into a drug-state of lucidity Am I actually even awake now? And yet, I can hear them crying Those tears I've caused Those furrowed brows I've worked so flappidly to create Simply because they lacked their simple truths And are caught in a web of mere mortality Of mere presence of true life I am smitten And disgusted Revolted With the pain I invoke in these beasts of flesh Because, perhaps, the more they cry The more open to the existence of a true world And, therefore, their true meaning of beauty Sickening plane of dust, bone, and tears I am finished with it I am finished with screams I've departed and only wish to lay claim a spot on your lap When do I get to cry for what I've lost? When do I get to break? Please, I pray this time of torment ends soon And that I amy break off from the placidity This torrid death And embrace those words you speak to me Write, child, write Simply state what you want, and I wil give it to you So, I write... And, what is it that I actually want? FREEDOM TO LOVE AND WORSHIP TO CHOOSE THE PATH YOU CHOSE FOR ME WITHOUT BOUNDS OR COMPLAINTS... I WANT TO BE YOURS |