Waiting for the Day of Judgment
Heavy shoulders carrying the burden of misdemeanours
Unshaven and bloodshot eyes, cheap wine guilty
Moments of lucidity lulled by painted horses rising and falling
Faces flashing by, too old for children�s rides,
Failure to note the scent of roses
Too insignificant for cynical meaningless anecdotes
Seasick on an ocean of shifting ground
The Good Life passing by
Unnecessary repetition
Unnecessary repetition
Purgatory waits with open arms
Tick tock
Head up
Eyes trying to focus
Tears falling
Cleansed by the soaring flames
Born again
New as the phoenix
Strength gathered from within
And from the very flames that turn you to ash
A new beginning
A new way emerges
Accepting
Accepting oneself
Not just who one is
But who one wishes to be
Rushing headling into the feelings
That course through you
They flood and leave ruin often
Or
When night becomes day
Things are different
Colours more vibrant
Situations become crystal clear
Like water in ones mind
And born is a gift
A gift so fragile
It must be guarded with ones life
But that one desperately wishes to give
To feel and to know
Is it real? Am i real?
Don't fill your heart with fantasy
When submission is your calling
Be true to your destiny
Or return
Dont waste time
Neither yours
Nor A/anyone elses
Time is of the essence
The essence is your gift
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