Destined

Imagine the face of a man covered in dust,
This man knows no fear, this man knows no rust,
Lifted by earth, yet earth is but a tainted crust,
Deviant determination, a demon driven by must.

His eyes speak of power, and his eyes speak in thrust,
This man knows no betrayal, this man knows no trust,
A principle of fault, chosen by the destinies of gust,
The winds shall befall you, and his eyes seem to do just.

So what is it that makes us choose our destined path?
An equation in which value is but a differently colored wrath?
An axis of inevitable truth, or an axis of a purified blood bath?
What is the equilibrium? Where is the neutral ground to this math?

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Is this face the negator and silencer to this violent diffraction?
Is it what happens when you look away towards that one distraction?
It is a kind face... one that seems to feed off of our satisfaction.

It is mindless... to try and understand fate,
Instead we choose to ignore, we choose to create,
We choose to forget, we choose never to relate,
We look down, then we claim to walk straight.

Will you follow in my steps? Fellow being?
Will you run away with me? Never stop fleeing?
Will you look towards me? Pretend that you are seeing?
Will you lie with me? Count the minds we are freeing?

Left Behind

I believe in this place, and where I must go,
I believe in myself, and who I must show,
I believe in you, and why you must know,
I believe in us, and how we cannot flow.

I believe in earth, humbled to your very knees,
I believe in locks, and a beautiful key-maker of keys,
I believe in snow, upon a heart that will never freeze,
I believe in love, and the person you want to please.

Ask me to stay, I shall do so just,
Ask me to cry, hurt me if you really must,
Ask me to stray, color me with my own lust,
Ask me to die, I shall wither should I not rust.

Here it is, the final tick of all tocks,
Here it lives, the wisest clock of all clocks,
Here you weave, a lost city with empty docks,
Here you leave, a scarred heart in an empty box.

Faithless

I have this story, I have this dream,
The heat is intense, the cold is extreme,
My thoughts attack me, and I choose to scream,
Everyone hears me, yet none listen so it would seem.

People are everywhere, why do I feel so alone?
Can I not go back? back to the walls of my own home?
Do I stay here? and dismiss all the doors I've been shown?
How has this writer come to know what I keep to be unknown?

I feel my grip loosening, and slipping away,
My hands let go to the count of each passing day,
I want to cross... I know I could never stay,
I shall await my nemesis... as I follow my prey.

One thing, that I will try to never miss,
Is being near you, and your painful bliss,
Counting my heartbeats, every time we hold and kiss,
Hopelessly remembering you, as I dwell and reminisce.

Think of me not as lost and misguided,
But as two meanings interchanged and collided,
As an emotion torn apart and relentlessly divided,
For I have chosen myself, and I have willingly subsided.