So happy to see you here,
Smiling and perfectly calm.
Your friends would never know,
The storm you’re hiding deep down.
I wonder if you know- not to make you feel bad-
But I really need to understand how you can be the same man.
Does it feel good to be good and bad?
Duplicity is so exciting.
Live like you can’t do anything to make her sad,
But you leave her black and blue and crying.
I don’t mean to question your integrity,
Push you off your feet silently,
I just think that you need to give it a moment of thought-
Wrath is good when you face your demons and your God.
How is a lie all right?
You feel your pain, and you hurt her again.
Do you believe the answer lies in you?
Your methods, are they true to you?
I’m glad to see you can stand yourselves,
Happy that you can be the God you say you are.
Saintly action is defined by the Holy ones-
While we just say anything you want to hear,
To heal our broken hearts and assuage our trepid fears.
Your word is law and you’re perfectly clear.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Black Love
Come forth from the lie defined,
Your putrid mind reeks of dementia.
And I’m calling to the you in I,
A separatist movement within the soul.
Nihilence asks of you,
His naked arms freeze my existence to enlightened dust.
-My world is too queerly true,
And I want to see the me in you.
Today I’m grounded in flight,
Everything almost is,
But naught is without me or I,
A universal fallacy under control,
Religion holds the key,
Its existence armors the me plurally.
-My questions answer no one,
And ask of all that is untrue.
Bring out a reason in time,
Your essence is imprisoning.
All we ask for is a real I.
Identity that calls us to being,
With only specious words to affirm,
Existentiality cannot conform,
Your vivacity is infinite and diverse.
-My search is inevitably lost for cause,
And the methods infuriatingly few.
The cards you hold and dice you roll,
Will never be what you want them to,
But only because they were born within me for you-
An invisible child that never breathes alone.
For a fear that it’s giver has borne.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)