The Hero's Hope for Me

I can’t help but feel a certain pity for myself

always said I wouldn’t become a drone

the youthful fight for individuality and a need to break the code,

a willful spirit is a curse for those who can’t finish the fight

conscious of my descent and indoctrination

every mind-numbing day slowly drowning the beautiful anarchy inside my soul

I can feel him fight every time I remember when he was me

He reminds me that I am a failure to everyone we looked up to.

Survival of the fittest

the philosophy that spelled the beginning of my end,

telling myself this was only for the time being

that I would pick that guitar up once I had a little time

well

it’s running out now, it was running out before, and it will keep running out,

at least I have a pretty penny to show for the precious days of my life I’ve surrendered

and maybe if I sacrifice precious moments for the rest of my life

I can spend my final days in blissful ignorance of the time wasted.

The Muse visits me once more

one last attempt to coax a troubled mind to transform its pain into beauty

I heed the call

as I watch my heroes fall

passing a torch that I’ve never had any business to hold,

this small flicker inside my head will give light to everything lost to idleness apathy

I can hear a small roar in the distance

The determined footsteps of a disappointed king coming to reclaim a throne

abandoned by a preoccupied god.