From deep down
the questions emerge...
My rein is falling, as dark as it may be.
The light is shining so bright I can't see...
Placing your life in my hands
But you hid your face in shame...
Tonight, it's raining roses.
They're falling on your head...
The grass is scorned; the birds are dead; the air...
A lone figure stands atop the burning hill...
I feel like I am an open book,
read by billions...
He picks up his pen,
And scraps it across the paper...
You run your mouth everyday,
You run your mouth to me...
(Inspired by excerpt from Survivor by Chuck...
Perched atop ladder against storm-clouded marble...
Looking at the reflection
i see a man i do not know...
Gods smell on death,
gods smell on death...
Treading insanity
...i am manic...