Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid Oedipus
In this throne i answer no questions only feeding what i believe
More self pride than the lionhearted king
Life is near perfection
like the king himself glory and riches influencing this crusade
friends,family
everything touched
turned to ash.
with everyday more precious than the last
expecting Chronos to heal this wound
standing alone in a crowd of disease
is this so obvious.
a wound in perpetual immaturity
no name or description
poison pumped through veins.
scaring the body both inside and out
Psychologically unclean
I am hollow
faultfinding
discriminating
loose and unfit this mask
accompanied by a suit
hoping to be mistaken for a hero
receiving undeserved recognition)
Interrogating
the remaining roots that struggle to nourish.
this organism that is considered nothing but a nuisance
no definite explination for its existence.
{time heals no wound
repair the cracks in this glass heart} x2
I enjoy the simple things in life but i can never appreciate the comlpex
foundation that is formed by experience, this foundations single purpose is
to hold my character, my personality. my home. which goes under maintenence
every day. cracks filled the walls forever changing to fit the needs of the
new culture.
without enjoying my "home's" foundation. i do not appreciate who i am today
{Forgivness, forgivness
repairs the cracks in a glass heart.}