Life is a sick dream, ever serene;
Polluted minds, by and by, creating a lie.
Selfish demands, never made to reprimand,
The reality far too elusive, now come and take my hand.

Contempt and despise, all seen through my eyes:
More nonexistant trash, denying to the last.
Laughing in the blaze, never ceasing to amaze;
Thinking they're so smart, climbing into their own graves.

Afraid of the truth, illusion no longer fantasy,
Degraded in our youth, revolution to be free.
Don't believe you're real, never think anything true,
Won't be able to feel, forever forsaken by you.

Truth makes us insane, denial is the same.
Might as well be dead, we're so fucked up in the head.
Manifesting our own fears, narcotics are our seers.
Life without a soul, unable to shed tears.

Child with a gun, having so much fun:
Disturbing and profane, ironic just the same.
Destroying all you adore, but still wanting more.
Don't you know by now? Even existence is rancor.

Contempt towards all of you, despise against myself.
Repent for being true, cries are not enough.
I thought this world had love. How clouded were my eyes?
Fly to the realm above, now you see the lies.

Now how do you feel? Your emotions reel.
We all need to be used; want to be abused.
Our dreams are everywhere, in the earth and in the air:
We're living in our dreams, in our own nightmare.

Life has come to dust; no such thing as trust.
We've lost our sanity; how else could we be free?
You believe your life true. How deluded are you?
Never disillusioned, forget all that you knew.

Walking in our sleep, we're already dead,
Giving all we wish to keep; leer at the world red.
How scared I am to live; how brave you are to die.
Now I feel myself give; now I begin to cry.

Our world's an illusion, our reality is false.
Are we in such confusion, are our lives truly so lost?
I could never be content, now Hell is all I see.
Why should we repent? Illusion's our reality.

Commentary

This is my favorite poem I've ever written, and I can never get over it. I have a poem currently in the works called "Lafs" that may surpass it, but who knows? At any rate, this was the first poem I ever wrote that had original music in mind with it. It's not very good music, but, I feel it improves the already wonderful poem. Each stanza follows an aa, bb, cc, dc rhyme scheme. No consistent meter or footing. Every third stanza follows an ab, ab, cd, cd rhyme scheme, as those stanzas are the chorus. The tenth and final stanza, however, follows the main rhyme scheme of the poem, bringing it to climax. Like most of my 1999 poetry, its angsty message is all about how life is deranged and malformed from what it should be, but everyone ignores it most of the time to get by. Years later, I find myself feeling like that's an obvious fact. I probably thought so then as well; I just felt that everyone else didn't. Ironically enough, this means that I was the one deceived at that time.