Living Things Are Dying Thieves

Living things are Dying thieves When my legs turn cold Sing only old songs all day When my eyes deny sight Hold my right hand and walk with me all night Take me to places I have less memories with Take me to places where breathing is a restriction When kids ask my silence Answer them that the old man will sleep a little longer, The legend will open his white dyed eye at the end of the tunnel The legend died twice, and the third time promises a resurrection When my beloved ones drop tears Tell them to unlock and shelf under my bed and grab spears to fight back their fears They will only fight peace not for peace They will tear themselves in pieces and never pick the pieces of their strength Their blood might stink before they see this well Tell them mine did as well Their tears will dry even though it does, it will dry again Their cries will not be loud, will not be loud again And when my face disappears in humane memories I will be the shadow along your ways in thy wilderness I will not only remember you and them But you with them I will not miss, jokes and fun But jokes with snacks I accept soil deserves my cruelty I at least fought for other’s liberty in the cell in leave you in I fought depression which later on won my heart I fought affection which later on destroyed my hat Tie my Ph.D. in my chest As I go for and long enough rest There are things I might come back for Images of pyramids that made my force My mother, a woman in her early thirty’s I admit I running closer the judgment Queue Do I really have a clue? Yet the blue sky veils broad smile of clouds I loved coffee, but I can’t wait to lie in that coffin Not this coffin but that coughing The coughing after you realize We are nothing but dying living things Down, down I’m going Lower, lower it is I’m drowning This face might float as a boat As thieves, lucky is the day we are caught is the triumphant (By John Kazadi)