No Title -work in progress
Darkness, a peaceful prison, trapping thought
Silence, the golden blade, cuts deep
Loneliness, the endless maze where I rot
Anger through my veins does it creep
-- This part came out on the fly. Above is more intended--
I am the one who knows not of love
The one meant only as a tool
Forced to look up at those above
They stand on my head as a stool.
Only ever used to reach the top
Cast aside without remorse
As I shout "stop stop stop"
No one ever listens of course
Copyright © Erik Burciaga