12/21/2012

Laughing, the ghosts in the gallows
See your streets with words of war.
As I headed down to old K Street,
To see what I was paying for,
I saw these hills full of darkness
Deceit, lies, corruption, and more.

My freedom’s locked in your hall
And I’m working for the state.
Barren streets and broken stones
A beggar works at the broken gate.
The paint upon your history’s wall
Herald stories, the lost nation’s fate.

If I could see one smiling face
Share a kiss that’s not so cold,
If I could see the seasons dawn
Or hear the river’s whisper scold,
Then I would remember God’s grace
When it was free and not yet sold.

Looking in your window’s glass
They read and store your secret mail.
They know where you’re going next
Thoughts land you in political jail.
Lurking shadows assign you a class
No one child can be allowed to fail.

The rotting stench of potential lost
Decays in every street side home.
A nation made of sacred dreams
Disintegrated, dead, parched of bone.
Its soul deleted, no matter what cost
Adrift in legacy, to aimlessly roam.

The sun peeks through in the east,
The morning air cools my brow.
Some possibilities challenge fate,
An old emotion reborn, somehow.
An ambition spark evades the Beast
Thoughts strong enough not to hate.

But the stony sky returns to gray
The clouds, extinguish any fire.
The fruits of the new idea glow,
Become apparent, a burning tire.
Potential packed and put away
Doused by state-imposed desire.

Time and age leave a heavy mark.
They build up and become a cage.
But youth chains itself to the ground,
Denying Nature, defiled by rage.
Nothing to lose, the future’s dark.
They redact the facts, burn the page.

A dusty graveyard of broken dreams
Broken lives, families out of touch.
The hollow train mourns down the track.
Stars, planets age, I’ve seen too much.
We can’t walk alone again, it seems.
You see they own the public crutch.

The cloak of empathy hides the feast.
The lies are truth believed in hope.
Gifts and tongues of deception stares
Straight through the ashes of your soul
Of emptiness, barren, just as the Beast
Smiles as you accept his coil of rope.