Eyes Watching The World

Control,

the Control was stolen

Replaced by bitter voices lined up waiting for something,

chaos is in control.

Growing Tricks of painful dreams from their hands,

crossing stepping stones made of fire,

chaos is in control.

Carrying baggage with secret spying eyes made from stone,

control,

control.

Freedom was bent to the left of a tall spike,

everything that was ever dreamed of was to the right.

The dripping sweat filled with fear,

the dripping sadness closed into the box,

chaotic insanity controls,

the road unknown.

Just above the spike floats every lie trying to be forced at others,

with a blindfold, we must jump with hopes of hitting the one we need.

The dripping sweat filled with fear,

the dripping sadness closed into the box,

chaotic insanity controls,

chaos is in control,

the road unknown.

Does the grass grow up your legs?

A jar of honey to replace the truth of deception in waiting.

chaotic,

control,

unknown.

Words offered with crimes of unwanted glass shattered tears,

behind a podium, we all stand,

an audience dropping shadows of jealous anger in a large wave,

Chaos is in control.

What was once called control,

just a myth on the wind,

branches growing up blocking all paths,

Who is in control?

Chaos stirs the pot today,

for chaos carries a new name,

chaos is in control.

Damage,

damage builds more homes each day,

calling out those on the edge,

smearing all growing joy into walls holding lost names,

When did the garden stop growing?

When did the time stop showing?

Damage is in control.

Tearing the page in half,

forming flowers growing out,

When did the garden stop growing?

When did the time stop showing?

Damage is in control.

We are a contamination to ourselves,

never knowing what was brightly glowing,

damage is in control,

damage holds no grudges,

taking all that it can grasp,

leaving behind nothing to be seen,

damage is in control,

damage will forever be known.

Pain,

raining down from every window,

sharing out every fall,

rising up for a visit on special occasions,

pain is in control.

This new age holds the people closely,

bringing days of nightmarish dreams,

one small crack and we will all sink,

pain is in control,

pain is waiting outside the door.

The shoves in each direction,

placing the tragedies inside a false picture frame,

we are no longer in a handmade play,

the screams are the songs of issues from many days,

pain is in control,

pain has the world in its hold,

pain is waiting outside the door.

Pain is in control,

hiding in the unseen places,

slowly coming out piece by piece invading every scene,

pain is in control,

pain has the world in its hold,

pain is waiting outside the door,

pain is painted on our skin,

we are the pain that is in control.

Chaos,

damage,

pain,

the day greets us with three,

the three always sees,

the world is caving,

the three is in control,

this road is looped into a knowing unknown.

We see it,

the thing that never changes,

talking does not break it,

the pattern that should have never been,

the drifting thought rushing out to forever sinking land,

the three is in control,

the three shines the lights on the needs,

the three shares what should be.

Do we stand tall?

Do we fall?

Which choice do we make?

The choice that needs to be made,

left unmade,

the world can not agree,

what happens when the trees shake?

The three remain in control,

how long until the whole world folds?