The Retort

Raindrops on gravestones the whispers are wicked. Speeding led bullets and your watch quits ticking. Body bags filled up with misguided dreams. This is the love that humanity brings.

Blood covered dog tags and heartbroken mothers. All of their children now cry under covers. War and destruction mixed in with the fiends. This is the love that humanity brings.

Donning white dresses, they have their ambitions. These sins they’ve committed will not be forgiven. Breaking down consciousness, and stealing our means. This is the love that humanity brings.

When the love fights.

When God shows might.

When we’re getting up.

I simply remember what humanity brings.

And then I feel real fucked up....

Life is not about status.
It’s not about knowledge, pleasure, value.
Life is about a view, about full speed.
Break the mold.
Have joy in full.
Start a new revolution.
Create your own world.
LIVE.

You could sing snow into the summer heat,
grow shining costume blue out of gray night,
exchange fire for rain, fresh and sweet
and wish the rocks below you into flight.
You could trickle the falls into a cup for your amusement
and weave a far-off rainbow through my hair.
For you, the stars would shoot across the sky ‘til all were spent
and the veil between dimensions you could tear.

But there must be one reality for you and one for me.
Your presence here would end the life I’ve made.
So every night in every dream I find sweet agony
in wondering whether you are flesh or shade.
I hope and dread the day I find
that you’ve at last escaped my mind.