6 de jun de 2016

Useless Duty

Useless Duty
Nothing is as simples as we think,
When the river stream is just so thin.
Cracking rocks fall into the path,
While moving in the tracks, becomes impossible to bear
The doubtless crawl, while the pink tears fall,
Trying to make a difference when nothing really differs.
Instead of writing useless stanzas, you should get yourself together,
And think about the weather:
Stormy, Grey, Ugly, Coward,
Weak, Fat, Disaster,
Disappointment, Fear, Stress
Close your eyes.
Ignorance is the salvation and,
Because confronted with the truth
You just can't help but fail
Writing rhymes are useless and, you don't even do it right,
What are you doing trying?
Maybe it runs in your veins.
Your father’s dishonesty.
Your grandma’s hatred.
Your mother’s foolishness.
Truth be told, isolating yourself would be great.
As anyone else would have to deal with your hate
Hate, cry, emotions and stupid fear.
O O O You don't know what is to suffer.
Just pretending to be the victim of your own mind
Go away from the people you love, would be just right.
That'd be the wisest choice, you know that
But aren’t you too of a coward to ever cope with this final choice?
Bother them, fed them up, ignore them all.
That's is all this is about…
Why do you keep trying to make yourself friendly?
Why do you keep smiling and being nice to people?
Whatever you are trying to achieve with that,
You'll never accomplish it.
Bells, bells, bells, as Poe said,
Bells, bells, bells, as your heart breaks,
Bells, bells, bells, as my mind cries,
Bells, bells, bells, as my heart dies.
Little love of my life, I deeply apologize,
For all the things I said and craved.
I seek for forgiveness, and I hope you grant me at least that.
Because tonight, I’ll cry my eyes out to finally internalize,
That my beautiful hopes are no more than fail prizes
Trophies made up in my silly mind.
Shall I stop my fingers by cutting them out?
Shall I stop my feelings by erasing them out?
Shall I stop being a coward and tiring them out?
Yes, I shall do that and receive with a smile, even if there is nothing left,
The people I love to not let them sad.
With the knife made of despair, I’ll cut my fingers and brain,
To the last verse remain, it would have the shape of a heart that failed
In his one and only trait
And the last verse, O the last verse,
Would have the scent of the lost hopes
The hopes as the dreams I created, falling into the cage
Cage that holds already the first dreams
The childhood version of me, sadly made
Because that's the only thing I'm capable of.
PS: It's there, isn't it?

Just take it
Just take it
Just take it
Just take it


Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário