A gentle breeze came sweeping by
screaming volumes in my ear
reminding me of lullabys and the different views
just a short thought from here
and i began to run through dark woods and beyond all full formed thoughts
i was immediatly entertained by all the coulds woulds and oughts
as the forest so twisted and dark seemed to pose the perfect home
only the image of a great fire remained being fueled by a throne
see the hooded reaper and open for embrace
take the bow and close the curtains with your choice and all your grace
judgement seems to fade in hiensight
the moon looks down to simply turn the tides
these pillars were built from the gutters
and therefore their height surpass no others
on the ground or in the skies altittude is a state of mind
as the grain runs through the glass leaving oppurtunity far behind
everyday the floor seems to grow in distance from the top of my bed
only the paint brush in my hand ever makes me lift my head
still choaked up and dry in the throat from supposed humanity
we live in a global dump of wasted possibility
and when your asked by the sea and the stars you must learn to be free
pull out that old paint brush wipe it clean and shout "NOT ME!".
The End
