Saturday, December 30, 2006

Lack Of Ink

Turn away from the faces
The one's that have made you holy
Turn away from the voices
The one's that serenade you in the dark
Turn away from the eyes
That seem to see right through you
Turn away from the ears
That hear your every moan
No matter how far you run
No matter how long you crawl
You can never escape
The one meant for you
There is no one
There is nothing else
There will never be
There never was meant to be
Anything else but me
Just a pen and a page
Are all that stand between me
And a white hot rage
The rage comes to destroy
To purify and clean
For in the rage comes destruction
But in destruction there is rebirth
A life worth living
Must be destroyed to be ended
The songs is neverending
On a loop continous
But even the loop
Must come to an end
Even the pen
Must run out of ink
And if the silence is all I've got
What's left to do?