Beautiful, angelic.....knowing not the works of your inner self,
For I'm not worthy, letting go of all qualities, I ask your help.


Can you see my faults, I can see your perfect ness,
Longing for your presence and your unique caress.


Accept the fact that I am not here,
A second meaning, for which you should not fear.


My mind is a trap, I cannot know how it works,
Danger and excitement, within my heart it lurks.


People as yourself help me to see,
That im not dead yet, and i have a right to be.


But am I sane.....or am I logical?
Are they one and the same, or a meaning we cant fulfill?
With me do you play a sick and playful game?
Or do you know not the way, Im impossible to tame?


My mind is separated, not like the ones you know,
If that's good or greater, am I reaping what I sow?


I cant answer my own creations, for they are just that,
So stay by my side, for your puzzle I cannot tap.


I love you, I want you.....I wish you only knew,
Its not the hopeless shrug of the shoulders, but its me bowing down to you.


So the moral victory, is just an immature game,
That little people play, in a sad attempt to acquire fame.


Should I die? I can do just that.....
Grace me with your thoughts, put your speech on my lap.


I can die.....before anyone knows what's gone down,
Don't think I cant think, inside my mind there is sound.


Very loud and apparent, all knowing and dominant,
I'm afraid it has won, my soul has lost its last sentiment.


Its over and I'm dead, it seems you never had a chance,
Our life's go by, improving our faults, there’s always another chance.


The meaning of the struggle, how can you let it go?
I'm dead and gone to heaven, my kindness you’ll never know.


But the victory in your head, which you thought was right at the time,
Led me to this fate, and I rest inside the crime.


Come tell of your remorse, but only inside your prayers,
For I’m long gone now, staring down at the top of the stairs.



© 2000 Justin Shilling