| Awake, unfazed,
|
| Morning light tells of the dawning day
|
| Just like any day
|
| Brush off sleep’s touch,
|
| Clear midnight’s haze
|
| There’s nothing extraordinary here,
|
| A flaccid world, unfit, unclear
|
| Desperate for something more
|
| Something more than getting by
|
| Empty faces on the sidewalk,
|
| Listless and limping to a lie,
|
| Of a bright and pleasant future,
|
| Of a blue and cloudless sky
|
| A phantom whisper sounds deceiving
|
| It brings with it the question «why?»
|
| We work until we are unable,
|
| Then locked away until we die
|
| But then it happened
|
| Everything changed in but an instant
|
| A violent burst of brilliant colour,
|
| somehow close and somehow distant
|
| From a whisper,
|
| to a scream,
|
| to a hoarse, distorted laugh
|
| There is no hope of restitution
|
| There is no ever going back
|
| In dreamless sleep,
|
| one ponders death
|
| Hold back the fleeting final breath
|
| Knuckle white, slipping grip,
|
| jaw clenched tight, and quivering lip
|
| This cannot happen
|
| This cannot be
|
| Escape a life of anonymity
|
| to be a drop into the sea,
|
| whose ripple turns to tidal wave
|
| that sweeps the shores it once forgave
|
| But crashing down upon the shore,
|
| the sea is silent evermore
|
| Awake, unfazed,
|
| morning light tells of the dawning day
|
| just like any day.
|
| Brush off sleep’s touch,
|
| clear midnight’s haze
|
| There’s nothing extraordinary here,
|
| a flaccid world, unfit, unclear
|
| Desperate for something more,
|
| something more than getting by
|
| There’s got to be something more than this
|
| It sounds so deceiving
|
| Begging the question «why?»
|
| Begging the question «why?»
|
| Why do we work until we are unable?
|
| Why do we work until we die?
|
| A drop into the sea
|
| whose ripple turns to tidal wave,
|
| and sweeps the shores it once forgave
|
| The sun, the moon, the Earth,
|
| conversed and agreed,
|
| the people of the world must pay for its atrophy.
|
| But crashing down upon the shore,
|
| the sea is silenced evermore
|
| But then it happened
|
| everything changed in but an instance
|
| A violent burst of brilliant colour,
|
| somehow close and somehow distance
|
| What unknown face now breaks the silence?
|
| What tipping force disturbs the balance?
|
| Swift and sober, comes a voice, offering a bitter choice |