Thursday, October 8, 2009

The Prison Ship:

The minor fifth. The evil note. Minor chords.

These sing to me, they harmonise with my disposition and resonate with my thoughts.

I'm as eternally conflicted as I can handle, in a constant state of questioning.

Scared of what you believe. Scared of what I could say. Scared of what I see.

I am the twisted wreckage of the once was, the am now and the should have been.

I created myself in concert with the world around me, a cocktail of vice and good intention.

I am the twisted wreckage of all that could have been, and all that should not.

Those sounds, so sorrowful and so angry, are my accompaniment.

They are my release... for I wish to be free.