Metal on metal.
A loose arrival,
To your week's third tryst.
Climb the highest mountain.
To prove you can do it.
Mixed up in all the cards;
The kings and the aces.
(We're about to blow).
A deadly biome.
A week's worth of LSD.
You think I can fit in?
You do what you got to.
Trapped in a coma.
Death by astrophobia.
We're all about to die.
But when has that stopped us before?
(We're all about to blow).
(Maybe that's the truth of it.
Only God knows how much I hate myself.
I was ready. I was so ready.
But now I think I'm even more ready,
To hold myself down to this pole.
To make all of my fears known.
To show what these stars have shone.
To create the shadows behind the trees
In the forests which we've made our lives.
And in the Tired River, where the fish are me,
I will spear them down and eat them raw.
I shall consume my living memories,
Before they do consume me.
Or perhaps I should just give myself to them.
Maybe that's the truth of it,
Because only God knows how much.)
Go kiss the sun,
Before all your fears come back.
Well mine is done.
Washed up in the ocean of black.
Hand out my life
For all of these little lions dead.
But you didn't know
That these feelings have gone to bed.
These clouds will clear
But not until after my time is done.
Judge your ways
Before your time has come.
And answer to our god
When your heart has ruined everything else.
And he'll give love,
Just as long as you give yours too.
Do it now, before the feelings of life are dead.
Do consume me, my memories of the living dead.
Do it now, before this water becomes stagnate.
Do consume me, before I regret all of it.
Consume me now, and maybe I'll become the sun.
Have you ever had a feeling of contentness with the dark? When the the shadows are all, and the light is what's scary? In the dark, when nothing is sought after, every action is a cautious step, you know? It begs the attention of your curiosity like a toddler at the feet of it's mother. It wants it. It wants it as if that is the answer to all things. The dark worships your curiosity as if it were a god. And it makes a shrine out of your body.
Within your body is that contentness for the dark. Is that to say that the shrine is content with the worshipper? As if the curiosity itself is just okay in feeling when it comes to the darkness; it's worshipper, it's believer, it's disciple? No.
I know due to the fact that what drives my curiosity is the darkness, and what drives the darkness is my curiosity. Together, they're just a coincidence. Apart, they're just themselves. It's the fact that one thing exists that drives the other, not the one thing itself.