Spastic and extreme
With not much scruples
Scramble brained and..
Lacking a bit of couth
.. in all truth
With intentions made of gold
So hard to be sold
To manipulate the mold
That is set in place so statuesque
So hardened by experiences
Programmed by subconscious, age-old mores
Of a sad, dark, bleak society
It has been a long dark road
With many forks along the way
Which have caused many times a delay
Yet I never fully go astray
Not thus far
In so far as I can see
From my perspective
There is still that fire in me
Burning relentlessly
Against the winds in this desolate landscape
On this long dark road
Still headed wearily to my abode
Still…
Even as I erode..
Your lack of belief
Does not negate my existence
Your point of view is just another perspective
On a spectrum that spans infinity
In every direction that you may conceive
Your opinion is not baseless
It simply does not affect me
Your rejection could never test me
I will keep existing freely
The tortures of the soul
Open up a hole so bold it grows
Until it encompasses everything
It is like antimatter
The obsidian abyss
The murky mist from which shadows come
Creeping one by one
To grasp
Any light which may trespass
Even for a wretch like me
It is a redemption story
The brighter side
The glass half-full
Hopes, and dreams, and wishes, personified
A beautiful joyful pleasure
The apple of my eye
… that softens my calcified core
Enduring, warmth
So pure
