antipunk

Thirteen reasons to die, thirteen reasons to live. We are enriched but by the means we are living, its a trench. Warfare with your attempt it falls short before we regreat to be sent. "Oh" I said "I left my battles dead." I never raised a sword that I wouldn't plunge through my heart.

Standing with my back to the crowd I'm not smiling but instead I'm just listening wishing silently, for everything to fade away.

Its tragedy until I awake in the morning, wondering what has become of lawless me, where has the rule chaser been?

Benign and innocent, I think I'm worth a pile of blue colouring paint. The skies and night with me you'd paint; deep purple's, brilliant blacks and astounding blues.

Panting until the sun has risen...I don't understand...I never get it. I feel as if I could be so free...I act so constrained.

It washes over me, a completely forgetless mind, "why not?" why not forget me and be somebody?

Its thirteen dragons consuming each virtue, plucking the fruit right from the vine and I'm still saying "Wait, that doesn't feel right I don't think you should be doing that..."

rubbish, its all rubbish.

I know what I want...I want it so badly, to awaken and say "I'm fine with being me, I'm not embarrassed or afraid to be seen, I'm in love with everybody and I am free"

Let us act and remember; good, bad that nothing lasts forever.