Like a flame without oxygen a rose with outs its pedals, spirits torn asunder, individuality at it’s bleakest, there’s to many sheep’s following behind us. As the world is at havoc my mind is not at ease, yet if you grab my hand we shall watch it all burn, for there’s no way we can help it, no way to salvage. Heading straight for an iceberg why don’t we just all turn backwards?  Looking through a broken window from the outside and gazing blindly into the inside as unilluminated as that may seem.

The future is very dim as the past is vividly bright. Like walking in a grave yard it’s very depressing yet it’s still very refreshing. Spiraling down into a circle towards a deep dark cave of my own cold design, confused is my mind, just waiting for the sunrise to warm my cold soul and to see where I am going. As I can’t see within the dark, yet I can hear the dogs bark and vicious they so sound, as life is profound standing on a burial grave mound.

Lost in a world of broken equality looking for a medium of equilibrium, head filled with an uncertain dark tranquility, heart beating to the beat of dead longevity and raging agony. Like a flame without oxygen, a rose with outs it’s pedals, and with the spirits torn asunder we will rise above and show them the thunder.

With the insignificance of your inner imagination to the fragmented lost figments of my imagination with the twisted designs of my own making, pain through humiliation, and blood stains on the wall from inhumane mutilation inside the caverns of our society’s eternal prisons. Seeking retaliation, looking for retribution with violent brutalization while trying to find a balance between time and space, with cold calculated logical realizations.

With no more hopes and dreams inside of me, ever since the kid died within me, leaving nothing left except a cold bitter sour side of me. Like how time waits for no man for simply time is non-existent just like the possibility of our human existence.