What is the matter O Mortal One?
Has your flesh turned selfish once more?
Is this existence really more important
Than the final destination
Of this timeless soul?
Who stole the life that ran through you?
Who shot the bullet that withdrew you?
Was it not your own self?
Was it not your own sick need for cleansation
That tore holes into the delicate fabric
And poured salt onto the open sores?
You were always running, you still are.
The Earth was always moving, do you still care
Which direction it spins or which side always wins?
Your thoughts will always rhyme
And your words will beat the rhythm
Your heart will speak the lines
And your blood will be the vision
That you will paint onto the canvas
That you have made all by yourself
Stretching onto four corners
And pinned on a shivering frame
There is nothing here to decipher
For nothing is all you are
Dripping onto the ocean floor
You are the leak in Noah’s ark
You are the noise that they all hate
You are the words that never fit
You are the crosses, not the ticks
You are all that remains to be fixed
Yet you remain as you always will
Running away as the walls stand still
But without the pillars that kept them tall
As you run further, they all fall
You’re running in circles
Chased by a domino train
The tracks do not shift, there is only one lane
You cannot jump back, and you can never stop
Until you reach the end of this tick-tock-ing clock
Do I not make sense? O, Mortal One
I am but yourself, You are only One.