I am getting sleepy now and getting tired of the same old thing Tired of being, tired of seeking I am a man who sees without seeing And feels without feeling I am blind to the world and it is blind to me I am a not insane but neither is jack the ripper I forget why I am but not who I am I forget why I sleep this dark sleep This every so lasting dark sleep This Tiring sleep Which is next to last to freedom which is never new but never old. I come from here and I am there two worlds apart but closer then they seem I am normal but he is not I am him and he is me The same two worlds apart closer then they seem I grab and I scratch, rip and I tear Scream and I yell out loud But who am I but this dark figure Who am I but this man lonely with sorrow? And scared out of his right mind He is lost in a world that is not his This world with no sun and no water It is his desert and tomb He rests here but never wakes and never sleeps Somewhere between life and death he sits asking why waiting for him to respond His only friend is a crow who doesn’t talk It fly’s away and doesn’t want his But he doesn’t want the crow either So he sits and sits screaming But never sleeping
Once upon a time there was a man
Bleached in sorrow
Spinning out of control
Think twice or don't think
Cold as ice and hot as fire
But loving all the same
The earth shakes but stays the same
And every once in while he can see light
Never fear I am here i will hold you up once again
Screams but is silent
When he falls no one knows
Legs made of stone
But even stone cracks
One day he will fall
One day he vanish
One day...
Deaths touch
What am I but death its self
can you see me
am I here for you
But you are not here for me If I am lustful then I am greedy
if I am not then I am not worthy
I am happy you are sad and worried
If I am not you are angry.
What am I but death its self
I am invisible to all
but yet all know me
I free but I am trapped
I have escaped but I have not
I known but I am forgotan
for what am I but death its self
cold and warm
fire and ice
my touch can warm you
my touch can kill you
for what am I but death its self
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
I look up to the sky and I see freedom
I look down and I see my chains
I look to you and I see my love
One kiss that begs for freedom
One touch that forgets the chains
One glance that makes me feel
walk away the sky becomes dark
walk away the chains grow tight
walk away I die inside
Love me I become free
Love me the sun is out
Love me I see again
Everything I am is you
Everything I am is lost
Everything I find is in you
When I bleed its for you
When I bleed I fight for you
When I bleed I am reaching for you
In total darkness I rise to find you
My death and my birth, my life, my everything
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