In order: Kaotic Theory, Storyteller, Jukon, Jon
Inside this hollow dome
exists a fragile foundation
releasing the occasional scream
following any sudden movement
that threatened happy thought's.
Visualizing appearances
of the author's who created
the memories that tarnish my soul
as they're words stand on the front porch
while the voices knock at the door
....to my heart.
Pop-up blocker installed, system
fire walled with few exception's
the audio I wish to inhale
hugging them deep in possession
while I bleed through my ears
swallowing depression.
Silver cap lining;
Shooting star appeal
Wishes don't exist unless
Fed nothing but hardship.
Tip toe melodies with each step
Broken; disfigure to be one-
The origin of self mistakes.
Thousand blood swords
Inject it's fuel to my brain,
Firing on all cylinders; cranium hope
Gasping for just existence
Laying lifeless on record pins,
Round in circles we begin-
The cycle if sin that indulges sanctity.
Truth to ones ears,
Eyes touch and though; rotting
Away and caravan dreams.
-slowly wave goodbye
Stuck on the broken path I own,
I follow the footsteps
of the ones that lead me.
pleading; take me away
from the voices that taunt me.
the words that haunt and scar
I'm covered with wounds
from the sticks and stones that
didn't get a chance to break
my bones.
just a fractured thought,
an incomplete piece,
never finished so I
continue to pace down the road
but I took the wrong turn.
I should've went left,
and now nothing is right.
I keep giving up on this fight,
the moment that changed,
the light turned green,
and my foot kissed the pedal.
I made love once &
shattered glass in the form of beats,
pulsing from a dead heart.
Pumping thoughts through the main-vein
stemming my brain away from this insane pain.
But it stays safe, this combination
of words & accents too strong for
comforters... Too cold without them,
warm hands grasp a meaning; greater
under-stood by the underclass-men.
Mute souls continue the inspiration
providing a foundation in writtens;
remaining the voice of a nation...