My mind, it’s old, and yet I’m told to listen to the wise ones, how? I don’t abet, nor do I fret, the wasted ones who disavow. They all gave up, when things got tough, they stopped and said they won’t allow.
Well here my friend, this is the end, and you and I are done right now.
Listen up, this poison cup, it fills the heart and drains the seal. Dripping droplets from its eyes and asking what of this is real? Why must I disguise my eyes? When all I see and all I feel is nothing more than vanity and things I think I can conceal?
Words are willing, words are ware, words are everything I bear. Words are all I have in me to contrast things and then compare
Emptiness, it plagues me so. It holds my throat and won’t let go. Choking things I want to say, releasing when it deems it so
There is no other, blackened crow
Perhaps I’m plagued to never know
If it is yes, tis what I sow
My heart is thou’s – please, let it grow