What I feel

But cannot see

It's the fear of a man

Reality of man and woman



If I could be a child with a hole in my head

I'd take my mind out and rape it in my bed

The juices of my naked soul shall slow

Then I'd be more then just a man



Before I go

I've decided to find

The mind I've lost to the gardens of grey

Where it was left with children to cry



If I could be more pure and naked than those

Who brought me in here, I could have rosen

My hapiness out and engrave the name

Of my hatred god to it



Though others say that I'm often sad

The deserted valleys and the sand

Will prove with every springful rose

That I still exist and be



What could be more beautiful than

A funeral where grief and fear of a man

Are floating grey to the face of the truth

Of the deceased