They told me to write,
I was never instructed what though,
I never thought about it,
Always they're proding and poking,
Always choking and pulling,
Always screaming and breathless.
They say this is a descent into a madness,
I will never know why they say those things they do,
always they're forever screaming, and into this
Sparkling madness I will go.
They are calling,
twisting little capsules of fate,
this is always yearning for the sunlight of a better yesterday,
Fading buds of new life will never arise to the day.
So I do as they say,
fear of the scorns and sneers,
whips and claws,
and burning eyes.
I swear this isn't a call of insainty,
the lark will not sing again,
and only nightengales will cry from hear on in.
Asphyxiation, an airless happiness,
an ode to you,
save me from the world.