I ask myself from time to time,
Is life too short? Why is it so?
Why can't we all live forever,
Like the Ouroboros we are?
We feed through our insanity,
Yet we stay alive and breathing.
Feeding through our own flesh and soul,
Living in a damned and dead world.
Children know not of what truth is;
And the aged, of happiness.
Why can't we all be united?
I don't know, ask someone who might.
But behind those dark, red curtains,
Lies the mystery of surprise.
Tomorrow is a different day,
Yet today will still be today.
A smile is worn as a facade,
To cover up the saddest lies.
Yet as a human you must know,
There is no truth in what I say.
A sad applause for those who live;
To the dead, a bed of roses.
Sometimes we see, sometimes we don't,
In truth, we are just ignorant.
A tree is killed to give meaning,
To this, and that, and everything.
Check it for yourself, write it down,
In parts of the one who's fallen.
We write with words, but not with thoughts,
We see with with eyes, but not by heart.
As hollow as a building block,
You form nothing with what you do.
We turn around to see the sun,
While the moon is infront of us.
Can't we appreciate beauty,
No matter how ugly it is?
The air flows slowly, like a breeze.
Like, for it is not what it is.
It is what it is; no it's not.
Think of it as a half-meant joke.
Chocolate cakes for everyone,
Divided by social classes.
The rich man gets half of the cake,
The remaning, for everyone.
We get to see children have fun;
Fun? What is fun with having fun?
Nothing, we need to be sad first,
And then we smile at little things.
You don't need friends to be happy,
You need "happiness", "HAPPINESS" .
And when you find that happiness,
Call your friends, and share it with them.
You drink, you smoke, you kill yourself,
Why not do the same to others?
Look at your shoulders, left and right,
Choose who you're going to follow.
We address ourselves with our names,
And we address others with theirs.
Please tell me, who gave you your name?
Parents? Friends? God? No, it's yourself.
We love to love the ones we love,
But do they love us back, that is?
No they don't, they love someone else,
Someone hiding under our skin.
You have two hands, two eyes, two feet,
That must mean you are bisexual.
You have one heart, one mind, one soul,
What does that make you? I don't know.
Now, go back to the beginning,
And ask yourself, just one more time,
"Why can't we all live forever,
Like the Ouroboros we are?"
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
