Send "Hell" Ringtone to your Cell 
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Carrying carcass, I cross threshold.
The masses moan knowing that could quite possibly be their person
Thirsting for final ounce of life
To lie fetal once again seems so natural
Actual sight clear as mind's eye blurred a beautiful hazed kaleidoscope smile.
The locust lie dormant too
Within their own hazy web
Waiting to feed upon your first born.
Torn between breath and death,
Parched mouth to black-nippled breast
To fill this chest with precious life once again.
So blessed to breath in time of our demise.
Oh to stroll in amongst the riots!
Wondering which politician shall play the role of Pontius Pilot.
I from those who would spill your life's blood to appease the sun
Wandered streets long before you ever acquired speech from first tongue.
From slums radiate a marinade of obtuse thought
The brightness of the stage reminds me how heavy looms our shadows.
As before in hallways narrowed by stature of so-called similar men
Wielding death in palms
As I chronicle theirs
The tattered thoughts with ink soaked pens
You will remember them as they remember friends
Fall into very same cycle.
This cyclical hell holds our children hostage.
Ironic, the shiny-primetime role models follow paths of ignorance even with acquired riches.
Because wisdom never entered this picture.
The mixture of wealth and wisdom was one feared in sun-soaked hands.
Keep your mule and lands.
What's been diagramed in plans is much more grand.
So now I sit at cliff's edge, feet dangling.
Managing to mutter broken paragraphs paraphrased incorrectly.
Recite my last rites endlessly, sipping Hennessey.
Revert to seconds past.
Contrast to that life you sought.
I content to crawl mongst the shadows of tagged walls.
Broken pen please be my voice.
Let them read few frequencies this mind housed.
Between those syllables I mouth lies a labyrinth of truth.
Child's eye glued to cathode-ray tube.
I choose to laugh a shrill laugh for the thrill of discontent.
sAllow me to vent all you may have whispered.
I paint a morbidly vivid picture, remaining none the richer.
Sinister plots have forever been coiled among us.
Breath deep from this tainted air that numbs us.
Carrying carcass, I cross threshold.
The masses moan knowing that could quite possibly be their person
Thirsting for final ounce of life
To lie fetal once again seems so natural
Actual sight clear as mind's eye blurred a beautiful hazed kaleidoscope smile.
The locust lie dormant too
Within their own hazy web
Waiting to feed upon your first born.
Torn between breath and death,
Parched mouth to black-nippled breast
To fill this chest with precious life once again.
So blessed to breath in time of our demise.
Oh to stroll in amongst the riots!
Wondering which politician shall play the role of Pontius Pilot.
I from those who would spill your life's blood to appease the sun
Wandered streets long before you ever acquired speech from first tongue.
From slums radiate a marinade of obtuse thought
The brightness of the stage reminds me how heavy looms our shadows.
As before in hallways narrowed by stature of so-called similar men
Wielding death in palms
As I chronicle theirs
The tattered thoughts with ink soaked pens
You will remember them as they remember friends
Fall into very same cycle.
This cyclical hell holds our children hostage.
Ironic, the shiny-primetime role models follow paths of ignorance even with acquired riches.
Because wisdom never entered this picture.
The mixture of wealth and wisdom was one feared in sun-soaked hands.
Keep your mule and lands.
What's been diagramed in plans is much more grand.
So now I sit at cliff's edge, feet dangling.
Managing to mutter broken paragraphs paraphrased incorrectly.
Recite my last rites endlessly, sipping Hennessey.
Revert to seconds past.
Contrast to that life you sought.
I content to crawl mongst the shadows of tagged walls.
Broken pen please be my voice.
Let them read few frequencies this mind housed.
Between those syllables I mouth lies a labyrinth of truth.
Child's eye glued to cathode-ray tube.
I choose to laugh a shrill laugh for the thrill of discontent.
sAllow me to vent all you may have whispered.
I paint a morbidly vivid picture, remaining none the richer.
Sinister plots have forever been coiled among us.
Breath deep from this tainted air that numbs us.
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