Earth was the beautiful place for everything...
...although nothing was in its place...
Constructed construction worker, just one in the working masses
green vest with the blue collar, now- unhatched bird of passage
The thirst to manage perished, left with this dehydrated memory
lost the will to see right and willed on the wont's of dependency
Broken the pennate dream, not even heaven believed in perfection
even the littlest promised land was there to intrigue my attention
Now I question rhetorics for the answer why I miss all passers by
and can't fully express my new found affection for land and sky
Earths fandom died, the vigilant all illiterate to the life signs
red and white the writers dialect of tedious trite, the Wine's dry
And hindsight is the shed light basked upon last rite situations
however bright- utterly meaningless, and my emotion's in abrasion
This is how I focus daily, stabbed in the back by my focal point
days spent as a waste to my optimistic search for the hopeful noint
Used to read feelings from the face of her, now fabled like Aesop
if only lost trace could talk and reveal the enormity of rasied dots
As torment seeks its grace spot in the perception took for granted
took to this new water slanted, so Satan, just hook this damned fish
Desire exists you can see it in my eyes, there-in lies the problem
wearing no goggles and overall lunacy, and here I hide unconscious
I'm tired of confidence, coaxing my optics, now- sleeping partners
I have this dream- I'm the 3rd inhabitant of Edan....weeding gardens
Grieving sharpens, illusionary laughing till all's regarded as a prick
melodramatic about burning my essence and angst carving at the wick
Sparking match that lit my surroundings, but all that surrounds me
is the accumulated eclipse of my civilization as the town sleeps
My head is pounding- constantly, all I want, to turn in eternally
worse is how I certainly don't deter this greif that determines me terminally
First to the heat, future is now, but for me there's no hope there
time to quest for strife or death, so there's no reason why I don't care!!
...But I want to die...because dying is the most helpful form of release...
What seems more scenic....
....this divine scheme of landscape brilliance..
...or this indignant mind playing ménage to these demons?!
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