Cries of countless souls
Keep blasting in my ears.
They’ve been trying to tell me stories,
But no, no matter how many times
They all come to torment me with their lies,
I’m just taking in the vibes
Of all those fake screams and tears.
I ignore, ignore and again ignore,
Because I will never believe
That that is who they really are.
Those that speak a language
I do not understand,
Are doing me nothing,
But the most meaningful favor.
How many hundreds, thousands,
Millions shiny tools do we possess
So that this empty life on dried out lands
We can go on and endlessly express!
Yet the most uniquely human of all,
This thing called word,
Is surely the one that I least comprehend.
I talk, I write, I philosophize,
Keep getting it out, never ever stop,
Until of all of my fights
I’ve spilled out every single last drop.
And still,
Despite all that dancing of mouths,
I haven’t said
A single thing yet.
So many hundreds, thousands,
Millions meaningless words
Will I utter now, today,
And every moment I’m alive,
And still! I don’t forget, I know,
I always, always know,
That not even the most powerful of them all
Will get to stay, to even survive!
It’s words’ fate.
They all will go.
Annihilated and pulverized
By the dazzling bliss of tomorrow.
No matter how much I speak,
I sing, I shout, I whisper, I dance,
I wish
Or I cry,
I will always be plagued
By the bottomless abyss
and the never ending sorrow
Of having said
Nothing at all.
