I'm just a lone wolf feasting on A flock of no variety A junkyard dog whose had his day Unleashed upon society To liberate the colonies
By Michael Brandon Marchese3 years ago in Poets
All furies, pharaohs, phalanxes Will bow before the one Whose fountain flows from phoenixes To bathe him in the sun For what is time if not his throne
No pessimist skies When the sun doesn't rise Can reign my parades Or dwarf me in size With their cynical shades On my evergreen trees
It is true When they say You're not you When you're hungry It ruins your day When your belly is empty Of plentiful joy
But they got’chu quiet They program your voice Automate your decisions And tell you it’s choice You can go to the store
Wonder if You wonder if You often cross my mind And how you linger there As I just stare And wonder why I even try
Can't look at her now Couldn't even back then I don't know if she knows If it happened And when I extended my hand
Make yourself at home In my abode of humble origins Where I define my peace of mind With words that rhyme with oranges
But that’s just it You know I go Around the town pretending That there’s any other girl out there I could imagine ending
Leave it to me to let You down again Then pretend that the problems Don’t come from within For I’ve been Out of body
Born of Gaia's womb an Olympus beholder Forsaken by Zeus fatherless, growing older Promethean flame of mortality colder
Fireworks scream, but so few of them seen The Delhi night sky is of pure gasoline It’s a maze of a haze that is thicker than thieves