Outstretched hands
I stand
as God
as man
the dreamer
the dream
the nightmare
the scream
the believer
the faith
the passion
the hate
I’m standing in the rain
and all I feel
is the pain of raindrops
falling on my face
I taste the drops
they’re drops of blood
my heart and thoughts
have turned to mud
I pray . !
tomorrow’s fate today
I’m neither sinner
nor a saint
neither virtue
nor a stain
and not my blinded eyes
do seek to see the truth in me . ?
nor my muted mouth
to speak the words I feel . ?
My deafened ears refuse to hear
but still I listen to my fears
I gaze upon a face of many guise
that hides answers in the lies
I’m the confession
the sin
the you
I see within my tampered self
v e i l e d
stained
worn
frail
my wretched soul
consumes its flesh
my fragile bones
b u r n . !
I suck on air that can be seen
yet still I breathe
a haze
a fog
a toxic smog
o n t h i s I f e e d
is this poison
the cure . ?
is it by instinct
or by lure
I b r e a t h e . ?
I’m the survivor
the slain
the euphoria
the pain
beyond the chaos
there's no peace
S t i l l . .
I’m asked to believe
in what . ?
I W a s T h e r e . !
© mingoáo - ? - the Writings of Mingoáo Inc. is the exclusive agent, publisher-distributor of the Writings of Mingoáo. No part of the Writings exhibited herein may be copied, transcribed, reproduced nor transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, not by carrier pigeon, pony express, smoke signal, slingshot, sled dog, not even by alien spacecraft, nor stored by any information storage and/or retrieval system, past, present or future, nor translated, without the expressed written consent of the Author and Publisher. ~ Not to be Copied, Forwarded, Distributed, Shared Nor Transferred