Golden arrows flying through the sky
Bullet rains fire storms
Crashing down to earth
From Mars – the aliens are here.
Quick hide –
Run from them.
I think they have love
Run! I cannot –
Just scream –
No – bullets fire rain
Upon the king.
No refuge under the king’s throne
Please save us, king!
Instead his caviar is more important
He is a president of our state of mind
Why am I called
At the sight of a young boy
Stabbed brutality by his brothers?
The lies suffocate
I cringe and spiral deeper down the hole.
Swing along the rough road –
which is live-faster-die-younger –
and forget to behave.
Give away my life to death.
You know something?
One man living cautiously,
lives a life of loss…
Our crew lives for once: life.
It stains the skin eternally like a love lost that will never return. For if it were to return it would destroy the beautiful pink roses and leave in its wake a wide void of destruction. The tears will roll like the seas and the currents will electrify the skies. The day will come when all the pain fades away… until then the bullet wounds of emotional destruction remain gaping holes for the world to view like they are giant museum pieces waiting for your applause and approval.
As we all sit in the waiting room with the constant buzzing sound and clashing of piano keys in no order or sense, we delve deeper into our meaningless lives and sink, sink, sink in the voids of our depression and mechanical life doings. Singing along to the songs of society that we have been indoctrinated into believing hold the truth, the way, the light, the life, the truth.
Trickling down the side of the statue is a new kind of blue blood which is poisonous but majestic as it runs down into the drain and filters through your tap and creates absurd assumptions and preconceptions in your mind. But you will continue to drink because it tastes so good and if not why not. “THIS IS MY LIFE!” you scream from the rooftops of your own creation and expect people to understand and say OKAY while they sit back and watch you kill yourself slowly, willingly.
Allow me to stab shards of hate down your sides to split your attitude right into death leading glory of wining the lustful hunt of money that you’ll never really know what it means to those suffering by night. Pour forth the wine of salvation called love. Sympathy measured out in equal amounts to control a crazy man whose life was lost in a hunt gathering as many paparazzi pictures as possible. You sir win the Academy Oscar for most dubious character falling for society’s ultimate tick and betrayal – JUDAS effect we all see lies now in your hungry throat which screams silently for some purpose. Maybe you didn’t have to chase something that didn’t exist to be successful. By chasing what you thought existed had brought unhappiness and bitter taste when you cold have followed what you knew was right there and whet you loved but instead you chased a dream made of lies lined in plastic.