The Ghosts of my past.

June 21st, 2010-An Ancient Prophecy

Riding on the wind;

A sense of freedom tasted;

To live life for another;

is another life that’s wasted.

Perfection hits the highest.

A cloud that’s out of reach.

A school for broken people;

When misery’s all they teach,

A cage of solid granite.

Chemical acid starts to rain;

A broken heart keeps hurting.

Use drugs to numb the pain.

Hell’s a hidden home;

For those with immortality.

A wish that’s never granted;

To fulfill the ancient prophecy.

A word with satisfaction.

Begins to melt away.

The chance at your salvation

Is rotten and decayed.