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Nov 5, 2010

0 In this World of Fireflies

I sit upon wherever and wonder
what type of man I am and exponentially ponder
down the back alleyways of my mind
where my life has gone asunder and trash is piled high

what type of man is this, is I
am I only decent in thought, in theory, in whatever
without any substance, any action, like the rolling thunder
and I can't come up with an answer

Whys flutter like fireflies to the only flame
walking around going insane
excuses to why I don't do anything, anything at all
and the only word that enters my mind is cowardice

Self-explanations, intellectual observations, to satisfy
satisfy the darkness within resembling light, to believe the lie
that all these truths are fiction, and I am caught in a rendition
an audition for a character with a past deeper than the sky

if the sky was a grave, a million deaths of a single me
with spirits, daydreams, figments of my imagination portraying all the what-ifs and could-bes
and my world is drowned in this Gothic texture overlaying my heart
in this world of fireflies