What's It All For?
The Rage that builds within me is neither crimson or Red,
As the blood of the Dying and the congealed of the Dead.
Its simplistically Black, ebony by far.Emotions, so bent on chaos as they are
Rippling waves and shadow-less thoughts, towering pinnacles of truth.
The corpse it just lays there to fester, it rots for the scavengers of Fang and Tooth.
You hear this plea of Sanctuary, dancing my Dance For the Rain.
So that many may live, and few may die, for the Honour that it is to be sane.
And what of Love? of undying Heart felt emotion, The notion is completely in motion,
With many a person and persons alive, for those that so strive, for peace and the Drive of the Happy and Free.
What a Crock I say.
The happy are over rated, and Rusticated, feeling little remorse on this Course of the Damned and the Devil.
Little by little, Life takes and takes, Leaving pity, and hatred within its ill wake, leaving sorrow at such a High Level,
That you sit back and think,
Toss back a strong drink,
And ponder,
And wander,
On the meaning of life?
Not with this sorrow not with this pain.
Not with this Strife.
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