TorturedJester
02-13-2004, 01:36 AM
There’s a sign on the door of a crumbling shack,
I can't read the words but the feelings are sublime,
I feel like turning back but I'm midway to nowhere,
I forgot where I was going still my tears fall with time.
Like leaves into the shadows that toss around my body,
shading me from sunlight where I hide from my crimes.
For I hear the voices weeping,screaming out with curses,
why! why- why! , was I brought here just to die?!
Afraid, I trudge along , the windy road to nowhere,
decaying with the seasons, a fading snapshot,
in the eternal picture album where my photo shuns adhesion,
bitter by the treason, I'm a soul that God forgot.
Somewhere,somehow,something will break in me,
I'll have to decide if life is still worth living,
for hope broke its wings while trying to gain freedom,
attempting to love deeper when noone else is giving.
Now I talk to carcasses and candles half-heartedly,
I bathe in darkness until my eyes see the truth,
I listen to my heartbeat, whimpering and beaten,
I look at the sky and I can see my wasted youth.
Sometimes I dig further and I can feel the velvet lining,
taste the stagnent air near the bed I'll call my home,
I can always feel the tears I hold, bubbling in my system,
It’s then I think of dying but instead I choose to roam.
The writing's on the wall as I near the resting grounds,
where I fathom becoming a phantom, a fathom beneath the soil,
but I never pull the plug or abort the futile mission,
instead I trudge and crawl until my very flesh has spoiled.
Despite unbending pain I continue to smite the heartache,
that gnaws at the best of me like worms inside the feast,
I've finally read the words and my soul has been shaken,
" your sheppard has been slaughtered by the hands of the craven beast".
I can't read the words but the feelings are sublime,
I feel like turning back but I'm midway to nowhere,
I forgot where I was going still my tears fall with time.
Like leaves into the shadows that toss around my body,
shading me from sunlight where I hide from my crimes.
For I hear the voices weeping,screaming out with curses,
why! why- why! , was I brought here just to die?!
Afraid, I trudge along , the windy road to nowhere,
decaying with the seasons, a fading snapshot,
in the eternal picture album where my photo shuns adhesion,
bitter by the treason, I'm a soul that God forgot.
Somewhere,somehow,something will break in me,
I'll have to decide if life is still worth living,
for hope broke its wings while trying to gain freedom,
attempting to love deeper when noone else is giving.
Now I talk to carcasses and candles half-heartedly,
I bathe in darkness until my eyes see the truth,
I listen to my heartbeat, whimpering and beaten,
I look at the sky and I can see my wasted youth.
Sometimes I dig further and I can feel the velvet lining,
taste the stagnent air near the bed I'll call my home,
I can always feel the tears I hold, bubbling in my system,
It’s then I think of dying but instead I choose to roam.
The writing's on the wall as I near the resting grounds,
where I fathom becoming a phantom, a fathom beneath the soil,
but I never pull the plug or abort the futile mission,
instead I trudge and crawl until my very flesh has spoiled.
Despite unbending pain I continue to smite the heartache,
that gnaws at the best of me like worms inside the feast,
I've finally read the words and my soul has been shaken,
" your sheppard has been slaughtered by the hands of the craven beast".