I know the thing that drives me,
But the world seems to have other plans,
I know what for, I should be striving,
Bravery must be held by another man;
Need not I, a crystal ball, or reading of the palm,
Probably just a careless mood, when falling upon the shards.
In this thing I should skydive without a parachute,
And wait for wings to grow as I pass the clouds,
Or slip my throat inside the ring of a noose,
With only time enough to bring this fury forth at now;
For I am at all like no other man, upon this fertile grove,
And this thing I need to chase with speed, the rest of it I loathe.
America of Mine
I Will Not Weep For Them
Beauty After Destruction