Post by Yossarian on Oct 6, 2005 13:04:54 GMT -5
she shrinks with the tides
finding purity in the changing seasons
the looking glass shatters
the broken shards illuminating the night
a dark moon illuminates the world
a collision in the night is inevitable
hoping
praying
getting serious
exactly -- almost
writing in silence
in the frozen blackness
random thoughts strike me through
strike me down
onto the page...
...pleading enters briefly into her eyes
I gather a sense of --
hope --
deep inside, hidden from all
except those who care enough
to look deep enough
sinking
falling
listen harder
exchange of glances
eye to an eye
heart for a soul
if she could give me a chance
I'd like to think that I could prove myself
to prove
that mystery is a form of power
and that I have power over all of you
power over her
the same way that she has power over me
thinking of this makes my head hurt
so I step off the page
and back into the night
close my eyes
and let the silence drift away
this is a sense of peace
I can see her
sense
feel
an air of innocence surrounding her
and yet she seems to know
understand it all
I could open my eyes
and let this all drift away
or perhaps it will remain
is this a risk that I am willing to take?
if I see nothing --
does the world disappear?
if the clock has stopped --
has the world stopped turning?
time stood still?
I know that the clock has been telling me
that it has been midnight
for the past two hours
and it will be midnight for hours to come
until the first light of dawn hits the sky
strikes my eye
strikes me through
and let the silence take me away
thoughts swirl around me
I wish that could understand myself
place out all these other lives
I wish to live
out on the floor in front of me
and sort them out
work them out
and by the time the sun arrives
I have a slight idea
what the hell I am doing here
why I am f*cking around
wasting my time
wasting my life
dreaming
fantasizing
spending my time ranting and raving
and I know:
it's
BECAUSE I CAN.
having worked this out,
I know that there is no reason to sort out all these lives
that I am content to dream away
though not my life
and that sooner or later
something will happen
power will overcome somebody
and they will succumb
the pen's well runs dry
so I step off the page yet again
and back into the night
close my eyes
and let the silence drift away.
finding purity in the changing seasons
the looking glass shatters
the broken shards illuminating the night
a dark moon illuminates the world
a collision in the night is inevitable
hoping
praying
getting serious
exactly -- almost
writing in silence
in the frozen blackness
random thoughts strike me through
strike me down
onto the page...
...pleading enters briefly into her eyes
I gather a sense of --
hope --
deep inside, hidden from all
except those who care enough
to look deep enough
sinking
falling
listen harder
exchange of glances
eye to an eye
heart for a soul
if she could give me a chance
I'd like to think that I could prove myself
to prove
that mystery is a form of power
and that I have power over all of you
power over her
the same way that she has power over me
thinking of this makes my head hurt
so I step off the page
and back into the night
close my eyes
and let the silence drift away
this is a sense of peace
I can see her
sense
feel
an air of innocence surrounding her
and yet she seems to know
understand it all
I could open my eyes
and let this all drift away
or perhaps it will remain
is this a risk that I am willing to take?
if I see nothing --
does the world disappear?
if the clock has stopped --
has the world stopped turning?
time stood still?
I know that the clock has been telling me
that it has been midnight
for the past two hours
and it will be midnight for hours to come
until the first light of dawn hits the sky
strikes my eye
strikes me through
and let the silence take me away
thoughts swirl around me
I wish that could understand myself
place out all these other lives
I wish to live
out on the floor in front of me
and sort them out
work them out
and by the time the sun arrives
I have a slight idea
what the hell I am doing here
why I am f*cking around
wasting my time
wasting my life
dreaming
fantasizing
spending my time ranting and raving
and I know:
it's
BECAUSE I CAN.
having worked this out,
I know that there is no reason to sort out all these lives
that I am content to dream away
though not my life
and that sooner or later
something will happen
power will overcome somebody
and they will succumb
the pen's well runs dry
so I step off the page yet again
and back into the night
close my eyes
and let the silence drift away.