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Wed 11 May, 2011 02:09 am
This is something I wrote one day when I was particularly unsatisfied with my life and my perception of the world was particularly grim.
Slaves
******* slaves
To the burden of the knowledge
That we are enlightened
I am a puppet of whims
A wraith of impulse
The most conscistent thing about me
Is how I fall apart
"You" is a moth to the flame
You are the nameless millions so despised
On days when perception gives cause for only hatred
You're a thorn in my ******* eye
This is supposed to be love
The greatness to which youth aspires
But eternity in recorded history's honored scrolls
Is just the effort to survive decay
I am the sum of my effort
They are the sum of my flaws
Still I am optimisms lurking ghost
Carry my obsession to extremes
Because the place where it hurts the most
Is always in between