8Simplicity
Simplicity has lost itself within the rotted confines
Of this dangling rope
Holding me near; holding me away
Would you tell me to go drown in my own tears
When your sorrow means more?
To both your and my wanderings
Useless, alone and confused
Where both my lies smolder at the feet
Of the pedestal on which you stand.
Angst is my way of life, you see
It has all been given up, given away to them
The beasts snap at my ankles and reach
For my bared throat
The blood tastes bittersweet in my mouth
And the hole you have torn seems no large feat
Compared to the destruction I have brought upon myself.