A Mentally Handicapped Chorus Line Killed By An Apocalyptic Hailstorm
#2 of Poetry, Lyrics, and such.
This particular lyric I started writing about a month back, and I rather like the way it turned out. Hope you guys enjoy it! :D
I am so clearly in despair, for I fear
That the person I have come to be has already lain in his grave.
A torn entity, free of conscious control to adhere
In its aftermath, it will question what it gave.
I'm used to the pain, but the guilt is a whole other story
There's not much more of me that I can give away.
Before this husk of a body loses every memory
And comes to a halt, left only to...
Sway with the breeze.
Looking up into the sky
Not knowing what, when
Where, who, or how can I?
I would write for days
Body cold and depraved
My mind let loose into the dark
But no matter how I try
To accept the ink has run dry
I write on, I write on.
No happiness to speak of in my realm of thought.
Though I think of the truth, of my emptiness
I'm met by a force, a voice, a comfort
Beckoning me to stay and rest.
"You're too weak to make a difference
No matter what you say you want to be"
I guess that
I take for granted that voice that pleads
"Stay at home"
Fuck you, I know my own
Strength lies in my bones
Determination, I'll set in this stone.
I used to write for days
Body cold and depraved
My mind let loose into the dark
But no matter how I try
To accept the ink has run dry
I write on, I write on
The pen falls from my hand
Fingers numb and callous
I'll choose to make my own way
Get up from this desk
Numbed hand placed to my breast
I'll live on, I'll live on...