Friends always asking
"why I can't save my money"
Because lemme tell you not buddy, I'm out here on the run.
Trying to get away from all this fucking pain (son)
so I stop and kick it with my homies and we're smoking down now.

All these flashing lights blinking in my head slowly start turning dimmer and I remember a moment that shimmers with rust, with no one to around but me, myself and I for the way I feel laying here in the night.
Wishing, hoping some god would strike me down looking at these landscapes on the ceiling thinking about being a martyr for his own being; ready to sacrifice himself if it would spare him a moment of torment in this world full of bullshit.

I would take the very first bullet so no one would ever feel the bitter bite of loss again, where family's can shine so bright Without the fear shadowing that warm light behind the shroud of misery.

We stood in awe with tears in our eyes as the clouds parted and gave use a view of a life unknown, filled with nothing but peace and love flowing in and out of every single bone.

This glow pack pounds on us down with a weight lighter than the feathers on our backs.

We are the angels for this world, and though we may have stumbled away from grace; slowly but surely we pace our travels.

Making sure we don't forget any feathers left behind from our fall, our wings scattered in the sandy sea.
we're going to need them all if we want to fly high enough to see god.

But as the Bible taught me, no one can be as high as him, I wonder if that's why he keeps us grounded down here like a bunch of kids.
He just don't want us to see, that he's smoking on these leaves; at least he probably was making me.

I yearn to be high and not from any drugs but soaring on my own two wings, just to see if there is a god and if he's anything like me.

I just want to know is there something else, or is this just the shitty hand that we're delt.

When my time comes, I'm Laying in a ditch, dug by only loved ones who tried so hard to make this life matter, as the shaken breath escapes each mouth my spirit beings to pray.

"Go with peace and love in you're hearts, please don't resent me the way I've left; all I've ever known what to do is fall."

I begin to disapate, I see you all laughing through your tears pain plainly painted on your face, knowing it will come for us all.

In a land desolate and barren, a world made to walk a new in the footsteps of stilted angels with wooden wings; the new generation was cursed with flammable wings and steel stilts crafted from times long since forgetten.

Standing like lonesome towers; they're hands outreached to the sky, I walk this world with them, me alone in a world of red soil and a black sun, I have to find the strength to start all over again. But not to fly once more, but to lift these tiny Giants up to the sky, so they can soar higher than i.

And just maybe they'll manage a peek over the horizon, where they may find the truth I missed....
Was it all as simple as being free as those kids?

So very innocent, everything is new; but at the same time going through the same ol shit that we did too. The only advice I can give you...
Puff your chest out
Pick your head up
Everything in life may make you want to cry but don't believe these lies being shoved down your throat, you too can be soaring like the angels of old. You gotta work hard on it though.
Back in my days I would practice on swings, and when I hit the highest moment I just began to scream.

Not from joy or jubilation, but a gutteral yell filled filled with frustrations; not knowing who I was or which path to take, now twenty years later I feel it's to late to find my own wings, and I have to tell ya that really fucking stings, the fact that I may never get to sing all those hymns forgotten by me.

I feel I'm forsaken.

Hearing loved ones making promises together that they'll fly away together once they each have found their last pieces of their true selves.

wandering these crimson sands under a Darkmoon searching for my freedom, but I don't think it's quite my time to fly just yet.

But I gotta tell ya, I'm getting sick of shoving all these emotions down my gullet, I glance over, catch the shine off them bullets and then start to wonder

"is it really worth it."

But I know I can't let my family down, they raised a strong man from that rural town, I always thought that these feelings inside of me only showed the weakness in all my defences; showing off any is a sign for everyone to attack.

With all these silent words filling all a shelf away, working so hard to give myself a minute give me a minute.
All these words hidden and doubted, I might as well be fucking dead.

That's what my eyes hide, the soul of a Deadman, just a shambling husy, a boy turned into a man at the cusp of dusk. Now that he's all grown up out here and all alone, running through the dark, trying to find my way home, following the trail of tears left by my mother, working so hard to give my sister and my brothers every little thing that she never had. She whispers stories and you can see the fondness of her memories; I believe she too yearns for things old and gone to return.

But sadly that's not help the way life works. every second forward is a second lost in this ever working clock we call home.

parts ever-shifting
ever-changing
Ever decaying till the last angels drop.

10/16/2017

Posted on 10/16/2017
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