Friday, January 2, 2015

Scratch

Days shall go on, the path shall wind its course
Disease shall flow in there would be no recourse
Tears will run dry sorrow would know no end
Pain will be easiest to comprehend
Like a prison with walls too high and the window with a view to nowhere
Look in the mirror back at you not yourself but emptiness would stare

You had it coming someone did say right
Creeping you would go in the dead of the night
Into alleys dingy dreary n dark
Come out with just a mark
A gash on the arm with a tourniquet tied around
Scream you would for your feet wont feel the ground

High was a state and the stakes too
All along you thought you knew
For it was an Itch you did Scratch
To take a swig, one small whiff, you just lit a match
And caught is your world and of those who cry
For those who walk these roads dont live or die

They live inbetween in suspended animation
Not masters of their fate but prisoners of their own creation
Craving for that pinch of the needle with not IV but crack
The road you are on you aint coming back
Scratch no more that itch for you're consumed
By what you consumed and assumed

Would be a one time thing and not blind desire
Dont tell me its Wood thats buring this cant be a pyre
"Too young to die"people tell them with folded hands
As there is but your nothingness to pick the strands
Pain is our prison and through the window we stare
Its not you its not you thats not there...