this sad child
with the dead husks of dreams
darkening his spirit
owns only empty eyes
such a hated lifetime
is shadowed, empty rooms
he can feel the color of the sky
sometimes a ray of light falls
into the room
and he waits for the angels so song
but he knows better
isolation bends the imagination
so much that he forgets why
he exists
no tears from shadow of truth
evolved numb
for reasons no one would understand
no one who lives to surrender
no one who tries to escape the suffering
words can't describe the anger...
he trembles
and holds all the hate and frustration
inside
builds so beautiful
to feel the strength
kills the indecision
all the thoughts
of never being free
when did everything
become so inescapable
an age of indiscretion
an age of innocence
gave birth to destruction
all time lost
a spirit must fight for survival...
