And I walk to the edge of life's cliff..
Wondering what lays beyond, though I know my answer will not be found today.
The silence makes me burn inside, and I know I will not make it much longer.
My blood begins to boil, and I can feel the beast within me clawing its way out.
I don't want to be this monster, but maybe today I'll care a little less.
The silence makes me more of who I am.. or maybe it just makes me more of who I've become.
Still, I shall not ponder this thought, for it is a day of silence, and maybe the silence will be heard.
I look over to the cup and see it's not half full, and isn't half empty, either.
It's a cup, because we have defined as one in society.
The cup is never questioned. It's always about how empty or full it is.
But the silence tells me it is neither. And has it ever really mattered?
Fuck the cup. Fuck it's non emptiness, fuck it's non fullness.
Maybe it never had any mystical meaning to begin with.
Maybe it doesn't matter if it is empty or full or pissed in.
Maybe it's just a fucking cup with liquid inside. Or maybe, it's just an illusion.
And perhaps the silence is driving me insane.
I throw the cup to the ground, and watch as it shatters...
The liquid spreads rapidly throughout the ground.
I cry. And the silence laughs.
Silence,
You are cruel.
Wondering what lays beyond, though I know my answer will not be found today.
The silence makes me burn inside, and I know I will not make it much longer.
My blood begins to boil, and I can feel the beast within me clawing its way out.
I don't want to be this monster, but maybe today I'll care a little less.
The silence makes me more of who I am.. or maybe it just makes me more of who I've become.
Still, I shall not ponder this thought, for it is a day of silence, and maybe the silence will be heard.
I look over to the cup and see it's not half full, and isn't half empty, either.
It's a cup, because we have defined as one in society.
The cup is never questioned. It's always about how empty or full it is.
But the silence tells me it is neither. And has it ever really mattered?
Fuck the cup. Fuck it's non emptiness, fuck it's non fullness.
Maybe it never had any mystical meaning to begin with.
Maybe it doesn't matter if it is empty or full or pissed in.
Maybe it's just a fucking cup with liquid inside. Or maybe, it's just an illusion.
And perhaps the silence is driving me insane.
I throw the cup to the ground, and watch as it shatters...
The liquid spreads rapidly throughout the ground.
I cry. And the silence laughs.
Silence,
You are cruel.
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