So much for fairy tale endingsThe tears in my eyes shouldn't be your concernThough you are their causeYou once meant the world to meBut too many things have been taken,Not nearly enough has been given in returnMisunderstanding seems to be the root of it allHeaven forbid you give me a chance to explain,Throw your words in my face and end it allWith the finality of a period.So many things I never meant to happen, haveAnd everything I want to happen, won'tEverything I live with is what I hate more than…But in the end it's all I have to keep me from…Misunderstanding seems to be the root of it allHeaven forbid you give me a chance to explain,Throw your words in my face and end it allWith the finality of a period.
Another lie to create my truthAnother thingI'll have to explain awayAnother lie to create my truthThings people should never knowThings I don't want them to knowThings they never willUnless…Another thingI'll have to explain awayAnother lie to create my truthAnother burden on my backAnd a bruise upon my soulMy fleshSo tiredSo broken down insideLiving on borrowed strengthWhat of it is my own?What of it is my doing?What can I control?Never knew the happiness'Til I knew the sorrowBut the sorrowIs sometimes all I knowJust another thingI'll have to explain awayAnother lie to create my truth…
ThemIt was dark, more than dark; It was oppressive, heavy, leeching; it hated. The dark around him hated and taunted and seethed with unprovoked anger. Eyes wide he lay on his bed, staring up through a hole in the roof above him. It leaked cold down over his bare arms, and chest, and stomach as he peered at a sky he knew the light of day would prove to be thick with clouds. Why they never rained he never knew. They were always there, seeming during the day like some unknown incandescent gas. They glowed with the light of the sun hidden behind them. Never any stars, never any moon. Night was lonely, it sucked everything out of a person, yet left them no solace in which to sleep. No sound, just dark, chill, heavy. Night was there to make the people fear, night here was fear. His ears strained desperately for some sound, something to let him know that he was not alone in
Otherside"By the pricking of my thumbsSomething wicked this way comes"And through the lonely door shall enterWith eyes of ice that speak of WinterFollowed close by tales of sorrowYet in her lies the hopes of 'morrowRound her settled shroud of death'Til she too passes final breathSheltered in those arms of oakSo many words she never spokeWords that at her soul do pullMind, no body, yet still so fullWicked, wicked, and still she comesTo fill Their ears with pounding drumsHer only thought revenge to seekFor words that she would never speakPlucked too soon, or so she thoughtWeakened, weary, and still she foughtThink ye to walk in groves of mistAnd there lies like to lover's trystEmbraced amongst those arms of oakFeel wicked words she never spoke
They are the FewCold skeletal hands,Grope blindly at the sky,Shiver at the wintry breath of the heavens.Snow on the ground,A stark blanket of inverse night,Sucking sound from the air that surrounds,A fallen king.Silver furTinted crimson by cruel human hands.Screaming metal plowed through innocent thought;A heated red blossomFertilized by:Hatred,Assumption,Stereotype,Myth.Through silence rips the mournful cry of the few.Haunted, cry of the few.Those who know what has been taken.The end is near for many,But they are the fewBrought closer by ice-hearted man.Seen by longing death-glazed eyes,Glimpses of what the future holdsFor ignorance ravaged lands.They are the few.The few walking a razor-edged existence.Slip,Tumble,Fall,Forever.Because of many,They are the few.