Why must I die….for you to live?
Do you remember all the joy that you used to give?
Maybe I’ve gone crazy.
Maybe I’m dead wrong.
Maybe I cut myself…
and I bled this song.

Why must I die?

Why must you create the hate…
that ingratiates the state of this evasive fate?
I’m perplexed in this pervasive place.
Am I a perpetual patron…
or a paper weight?

Do I buy now just to take away…
or sit and do nothing…just a vacant stay.
Do I fly high like paper planes…
or dwell nightly ‘pon memory
and hatred’s lane?

Am I proactively exchanging lanes…
or merely standing pat to await the reins?
Am I acting…to vacate these chains…
or simply lying flat…
content to wait…
for change?

Why must I die….for you to live?
Do you remember all the joy that you used to give?
Maybe I’ve gone crazy.
Maybe I’m dead wrong.
Maybe I cut myself…
and I bled this song.

Why must I die?

If the absence of evidence isn’t the evidence of absence…
then how do I explain how my lack of presence…happens?
While my body’s in a black pit…
my mind’s intergalactic…

My receptors receive static…
while I’m trapped in the attic…
the whiskers of a catfish…
tickle my synapses.

I’m disconnected from the masses…
they are all captives…
believing they are active…
… I’m beleaguered by these tactics.

I leave these worldly themes…
to the fiends and the fascists…
and retire to my space station…
overlooking Atlantis.

Overcooking the atlas…
my world is blazing…
the fact that I’ve been gone this long…
is just…
amazing.

Why must I die….for you to live?
Do you remember all the joy that you used to give?
Maybe I’ve gone crazy.
Maybe I’m dead wrong.
Maybe I cut myself…
and I bled this song.

Why must I die?

Disassociation of the entities….
a crisis of the inner kind…
or one of the identity?

If I motion to deny them both…

how much energy…
is left for the inner me?

The power and the synergy…
the showers of the imagery…
the hours of efficiency…
the blueprints and the finishing…

which led to this epiphany…

without a sound body and mind…
.
.
.
.
there can be no symphony