the old feels new the window view showing the same Trees Hills Imagery Nights Grass though this picture may dull it does not do me wrong Idle hands are the devils tool Well just how sure are you hauntings no longer bring fear lamentations cease to move I know now the goal and with it the role the fatal threat now bores and fiery roars find the quiet so make the threat the promise I so miss that itch on the back of my skull because this continuing was not worth my seeking so now I place myself in this chair Casted away countless opinions Forgot second guessing doubts You were the one who approached me Telling of a tale not told the height of eagerness confronting outcasts not hiding blackness now hollowed out now silent now unmoving now I am done In my opened state of mind You only gave one option but you surely did not forget what she told me once on the ocean of grass Unjustified bastard you make the claim Time is yours, and yours to play and all you need to win is watch My thrashing, twisting, slowly exhausting efforts For time is yours, and yours alone I do not doubt so rip into my soul degrade my actions bully the subtlest intent misread purposefully drag me through the dirt grind my bones on stone throw away my attempts I Don't Care for I can sit in a damned perfect chair knowing that I cannot outlast you but I can last the nothingness watching the clock turn away Every Damn Day And if there is found a way to force my hand as you see I pity that first demon who dares confront me |