Fatigue
Thrown To The Sun
I thought life would be a brilliant comedy
I never knew that it was to be a great catastrophe
I never knew it'd be a repellant tragedy
I thought life would be a brilliant comedy
Full of figures of pleasantry, around me
Are not scenes from an eloquent journey
But a deviant form of a most baleful custody
Tired eyes, wailing mind
An odd sense of anger
An odd sense of lunacy
Abide
I never knew that it was to be
I never knew
Textures form
My trails glow
Damnable restraint
I will pluck you out of my way
Trail, my trail, misplaced. All led astray
I'll light my inner kindle
Thoughts appear. Ever wrestle
In the rain, in the sound
I never chase them away
Stripped of the mask of joy
Vile rows of silent days, narrowed will
Stillness engraved in memories
Thawed by trails ablazed by light
I'll wipe my tired eyes
Silence my wailing mind
I will mark my trail
I'll shout my words, in endless space
I will make up
For silent days, for baleful days
I will earn my rest
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