A collection of 1:00 AM thoughts

I traverse the intrepid steel strings

Of a faithfully delivered gift of joy

One I do not deserve


Why is it that skies look 

Bloodless in January

These are the days of meaningless deeds

And the people....


Hate is no fruit at all

The limbs fall

Or bare all in the face of winter winds

Like the eyes of god


Let's not pretend you can rise above

This, this is the weight of Atlas

And you are but an ant


I say I give to the guitar

But I feel as though I am only a robber

As the music sings itself

And I, press down harder

Strum faster

Faster than a dying heart


I must reach something

We all must reach


Find your bloody arm upon

The threshing floor


Among the tears

There are no stars in her eyes tonight

There is no sun here

It left with a sigh

At the first sob


Club hearted old fool

When pride becomes more

When it becomes who you are

When how they see you, is how you are


Hell would've been better

Money would've been nicer

Love would've been warmer

Happiness would've been a list


And I wouldn't be sitting here


Laughter is no laughter

When your eyes fail the deed

When your soul remains unhealed

And your conscious is dulled yet again 

With another lie


I wish she was coming

But heaven knows

Heaven knows

View tsenumaic's Full Portfolio