falling from the ceiling,
smashing into the ever blissful glow
trying to stop the free fall
of empty souls in tow.
this is not for you
only for the end does one make the call
i am writing again what a great sign of fall.
i know what you say better tomorrow than today
but who am i to blame for all that brings me shame
wow i can't write but neither can you
these lies they tangle up like webs around my noose.
metaphorically speaking i shouldn't write at all, but
without the constant torture i have less inspirations.
i'm happy, but oblivious to the destruction yet to come.
i can write about it now, but i will destroy them once for all.
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