Act I
Act I
The smuggled, to select his status,
sees himself as saying no one does
Memories do not serve him well
So he makes them all
from stepping stones and soon sand brigades
For these words have been marked down
In certain holy pages and many books
Whereas they might denounce my own words
Clear as day, I follow
but soon I fall
And, snatched away, I am condemned
to move near the sun,
in a place without shadows.
It burns me so as the ground begins to shake
the blues, yellows, and oranges change
to form shapes and figures
that are ugly but perfect
loud but soft
frightening yet soothing
in ways shown only by the divine
and only in times of great despair
and yet I am the exception
I’ve never seen it until now
oh how the memories seem to forget about me
although I can never forget them.
soon the passages would be blocked by rivers of sand,
walls of dirt, and gallows of filth
And soon when all the unclean become clean
and are one with the word
I would be cast out as different
and for that I will return to the sun.
This is why I’ll burn…
So as of late, the wind has been cautorizing,
burning my pores
making me pant
eyes becoming bloodshot and heavy
“But I can’t sleep”, I say with a grin
as I finally drift into the other worlds
made of other sins
“Repent, you bastard!”, I sigh
contradicting myself into falsehoods
layers of rain finally cool me off
as if I were being cast into black snow
from which only the cleanest of beings emerge
“May I taste it?”, I ask
I hear something say no
not a voice
just a thought in the purest fashion
I stumble, but only on my words
for I have no heart
just a big box of cliches…
You sigh as if trying to make today worthless
the question of whether or not you succeed,
it will be the death of me
but I fear it not for I have seen the end
it is beautiful
full of lovely colors, pleasant smells, and familiar memories
I weep, smiling, finally showing how I feel
oh how the years have been wasted
holding these in as if they were infectious
or contagious diseases…
oh how the years have been wasted
keeping my words to my heart
and meanings to the soul
never to share with the united
or let others behold
“Behold!”, I finally said, holding out my arms
hoping for embrace
I just want to be loved
I slowly curl my fingers
as if to grasp at something
but find nothing but the inside of my fist
I weep, this time, the mood is more meloncholic
and dreary.
Soon the light will be gone all
and hope will be restored
with the absence of this handicap
the darkness seems like home
before it was bright to see
now it is too dark to care
but I care
Nobody else cares enough
This is why I’ll burn…
The temptation to just forget everything
is overwhelming
the fact that nothing would go wrong afterward
is what should scare me
but it does not
the snow, suddenly, begins to fall
as cold as I remember it
it is not
I catch some on my tongue
it taste of fire
I only then realize
it is not snow, but rather ash
I finally open my eyes
and realize I’m descending
from one sun
to another
I can only fathom the change in the enviroment
from the slow disappearance
of oranges and reds
I can only see blues
and then slow rolling blackness
I am enjoying this
it is inviting and warm
but not pressuring or uncomfortable
Although I feel guilty
letting myself become encompassed
by the feeling of selfishness and greed
loving the feeling of getting everything for myself
and also not caring for others,
I scrape as many crumbs of joy out of it
I let out a grimacing smile
This is why I’ll burn…
The smuggled, to select his status,
sees himself as saying no one does
Memories do not serve him well
So he makes them all
from stepping stones and soon sand brigades
For these words have been marked down
In certain holy pages and many books
Whereas they might denounce my own words
Clear as day, I follow
but soon I fall
And, snatched away, I am condemned
to move near the sun,
in a place without shadows.
It burns me so as the ground begins to shake
the blues, yellows, and oranges change
to form shapes and figures
that are ugly but perfect
loud but soft
frightening yet soothing
in ways shown only by the divine
and only in times of great despair
and yet I am the exception
I’ve never seen it until now
oh how the memories seem to forget about me
although I can never forget them.
soon the passages would be blocked by rivers of sand,
walls of dirt, and gallows of filth
And soon when all the unclean become clean
and are one with the word
I would be cast out as different
and for that I will return to the sun.
This is why I’ll burn…
So as of late, the wind has been cautorizing,
burning my pores
making me pant
eyes becoming bloodshot and heavy
“But I can’t sleep”, I say with a grin
as I finally drift into the other worlds
made of other sins
“Repent, you bastard!”, I sigh
contradicting myself into falsehoods
layers of rain finally cool me off
as if I were being cast into black snow
from which only the cleanest of beings emerge
“May I taste it?”, I ask
I hear something say no
not a voice
just a thought in the purest fashion
I stumble, but only on my words
for I have no heart
just a big box of cliches…
You sigh as if trying to make today worthless
the question of whether or not you succeed,
it will be the death of me
but I fear it not for I have seen the end
it is beautiful
full of lovely colors, pleasant smells, and familiar memories
I weep, smiling, finally showing how I feel
oh how the years have been wasted
holding these in as if they were infectious
or contagious diseases…
oh how the years have been wasted
keeping my words to my heart
and meanings to the soul
never to share with the united
or let others behold
“Behold!”, I finally said, holding out my arms
hoping for embrace
I just want to be loved
I slowly curl my fingers
as if to grasp at something
but find nothing but the inside of my fist
I weep, this time, the mood is more meloncholic
and dreary.
Soon the light will be gone all
and hope will be restored
with the absence of this handicap
the darkness seems like home
before it was bright to see
now it is too dark to care
but I care
Nobody else cares enough
This is why I’ll burn…
The temptation to just forget everything
is overwhelming
the fact that nothing would go wrong afterward
is what should scare me
but it does not
the snow, suddenly, begins to fall
as cold as I remember it
it is not
I catch some on my tongue
it taste of fire
I only then realize
it is not snow, but rather ash
I finally open my eyes
and realize I’m descending
from one sun
to another
I can only fathom the change in the enviroment
from the slow disappearance
of oranges and reds
I can only see blues
and then slow rolling blackness
I am enjoying this
it is inviting and warm
but not pressuring or uncomfortable
Although I feel guilty
letting myself become encompassed
by the feeling of selfishness and greed
loving the feeling of getting everything for myself
and also not caring for others,
I scrape as many crumbs of joy out of it
I let out a grimacing smile
This is why I’ll burn…