..
Lend me your ignorant ears;
My fellow slightly-gentle-men.
Let the sweat stumble from your brow and embrace you
Like a womans touch never has.
Allow my sing-song words to weave themselves
Around your opinions, cocooning
Your very mental, state.
Open your eyes to the carnage
Tucked away like your own mothers
Archaic habits. Triumphant as we are -
We waltz to a dangerous tune,
Acoustic arrogance coupled with
An instrumental livelihood;
The universe awaits my Grand Finale.
Voiceless; I see that which is
Cloaked in invisibility; smothered in stark
Familiarity. I reach the highest notes possible
And ride them towards the stars;
Oxymoron's eclipse the old cliches
Which spring to mind, A victim of life -
I'm trapped within the music itself.
Sightless; the troubles of the world
Are placed upon my shoulders
Like Atlas himself.
I am truth, as my disability renders me
Lie-less, ironically: a stand up guy.
Attend my extravaganza, as wickedly
Portrayed as a witches potion.
Eye of newt; served on a mortal-platter with
The death of humanity. The perfect antidote to
Speech. My muted opinions form cysts on the
Face of humanity like cancers.
You see right through me; enveloped in transparency
As though beneath a waterfall.
The music in my head falters and stumbles yet
My intentions waver not, as stone-like as
The heart of God himself.
Without acclaim;
My song ends, as quietly as it began.
Greeted with applause as silent as myself.
..