I'm missing .. .. ..
In a sea of muddled thoughts, I stumble, lost
Hit by a subtle shock, I can no longer grasp the art
I'm a master, barred. My actions marred
Fact is, I'm starved for a disillusion solution
A delirium serum, I'm damn near to appearing
I just need a final push, shove, and a jerk
To reach my unsurmountable perch
To drink from my very own fountain of works
That I molded, folded, destroyed and created
I might explode and erode my previous ploys and my phases
And be able to avoid my displacement
Escape this void of derangement than find an inkling intentions
That can exist in dimensions only found in my brain and my sentences
I try in vain... and descend, each time my pencil breaks or dulls
Im in need of a motive before I end, and fade to null
I'm a hundred shades of gray and I end up jaded
As a faceless patron in the streets of Satan
I'm.. just.... waiting.. for a clear mindscape
But I fear I signed fate away to a divine place
Perhaps this is a sublime rape, taking my creative virginity
I've spent years evading obscenity, but now it stays in proximity
spilling my thoughts is tough, but what about pulling a trigger?
And its not so hard filling my liver with undistilled liquids..
I'm my own villian civilian, eclipsing my writing nexus
I exist as a sightless peasent.. you see, I'm no pleasant martyr
Plus. the end is darker
As I'm searchin' for a way to get my pencil sharper