Friday, October 16, 2009 @ 3:27 AM
bismillah-ir rahman-ir rahim.
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
-William Shakespeare. Macbeth: Act V, Scene V.
sometimes we scream, and then get screamed at.
sometimes we cry, and then a shoulder to cry on.
sometimes we fight, for our own right.
and then, fought for others.
sometimes the world.
just spins.
and spins.
sometimes we cry, and then a shoulder to cry on.
sometimes we fight, for our own right.
and then, fought for others.
sometimes the world.
just spins.
and spins.
spins.
spins.
and then, there are times.
where we die, inside out.
and then, there are times.
where we die, inside out.
dying isn't just, six feet under.
we lose ourselves, we lost our way.
unable to find a way back, pathways blocked.
we lose ourselves, we lost our way.
unable to find a way back, pathways blocked.
what do we do then?
drop-dead?
die.
drop-dead?
die.
die.
die.
a certain something rots, smells funny.
blood gushing through each vein, faster than a speeding bullet.
a certain something rots, smells funny.
blood gushing through each vein, faster than a speeding bullet.
love like winter, as cold as ice.
hearts broken, turned stone cold.
warm us up, we need your light.
we need your loving, this earth.
it's already rotting.
we need your loving, this earth.
it's already rotting.
why?
who?
how?
hello there you, you who are reading this.
close your eyes, imagine pain.
a father raping his own daughter.
a son killing the very womb he came from.
a daughter prostitutes herself.
a mother selling her own children.
a brother shoots his brains out.
a sister slicing her blood out.
all the wasted dreams.
all the wasted tears.
all the wasted life.
where do we go?
when does this stop?
void.
stop.
stop.
stop.
eyeballs are dropping.
hearts, are just not hearts.
where have all them hearts go?
i say no more.
"Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."
-William Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet: Act II, Scene II.
i recite, "love, love, LOVE. like you mean it, not because you want it."
amin.
