You find comfort in words?
Well, I find solace in what I see.
I earn freedom from being blind.
You can keep the stale refrain.
Blankness can be kind
For those still waiting--
I’ve got too many ties in blood
To souls without wings.
Emptiness may be desired
On behalf of the lost.
In your world,
are mine condemned?
You sing your praises,
You offer trite platitudes.
Well, they called my number
In a parking lot.
That man on the wall is dead.
That man in the jar is dead.
They are the same
In that they are nothing.
