Gliding through the sky with grace,
Allowing for no other pace,
cutting the sky with precision,
choosing wisely each and every decision,
...
Gliding atop rails away from the city, suburbia was revealed in all it's graffiti splattered glory,
Like hell fire or something out of a Grimm fairy tale,
I pass martyred led filled angels abundant as rain in the amazon, necks strangled from suit and tie, color stripped from flesh, I wonder did they deserve to die?
We're they crooks or curriers, thief's or therapists?
...
You're beautiful but you're a bud waiting to bloom,
And we're all sitting and waiting and wondering, will it be soon?
So we give you room, backing up a few paces to let you shine brighter,
Hoping to false gods that you'll be a fighter, that has nothing but desire.
...
You and I are like half written books,
No one stopping to take a second look,
Pages ripped and torn,
Our binding beaten and worn.
...
Like thunder striking the earth,
Your force, brilliant but yet gone too soon,
Yet my tree remains ablaze.
For you did not strike a structure or mere dirt, but my tree of life.
...
With fiction aside
I will abide
To my moral pride
As i have tried
...
With hearts floating,
and love working as a coating,
hiding our fears,
covering up tears,
...
With the consumption of anger,
Along with the pain,
Life seems so empty,
So void and drain,
...