Entrant 13
VERTIGO
"The only tyrant I accept in this world is the still voice within."
-Mahatma Gandhi
I can feel my expression, tainted, portrayed with a tyrants grin
I stay focused , from beethovens new haven of violins
The melodic collage of sound astounds the watery shrine within
I find a friend…my inner voice, that’s when the irony begins
I take my final glimpse,…the heavier my eye lids get
My mind is dense, I take a deep breath then close my eyes and sit
Im right beside the wick…and I can feel the fire lit
It’s like im being watched by shadows that the wall inside submits
The smell of ³³³³³ cider sends my senses through a spiral quick
That’s when imagination acts as satin then supplies intense
Re-occurring thoughts that over lap by 99 percent
My will to live and learn instead im turned to homocide by sins
At this point im meditating, body still, no sudden movements
I see the path ahead, it’s blurry, my eyes are adjusting to it
It’s my next step, my inept approach to it must be foolish
With my life on the line, im oblivious seeing it’s just a blue print
No map or walkthrough, it’s all new, and im a flustered student
To making decisions in life, “what’s right?”, see,! I want improvement
Im stubborn to it’s difficult, but im saying there’s nothing to it
So I let my conscience lead me in blind cause I must construe this
Now what produces, well I think about and ponder it’s mystique
They say to live your dreams, but what If you’ve been conquered when you sleep
Motivation is the key, and I’ve been locked within esteem
I feel im physically weak at times, but I can consciously succeed
Im honestly supreme, I try to picture the good
And leave my train of thought topped by the little engine that could
I express myself on paper sometimes it’s written in blood
So when I wanna give up, I see life’s worth living and should
I just witnessed the flood, on the coast and im saddened by the rapture
The states are now aquatic pastures from this natural disaster
A visual water world, I sense the panic pulling faster
And mother nature is to blame for every casket we should ask her
Why she had to capture, the hearts and souls of humans
I open my eyes, begin to sigh and then I start to roll the Cuban
I walk to my window it’s so seducing, the moon gives it’s own illusion
But the water over my roof is the ode to my own confusion
Im alone in my home it’s soothing, but the mood it lets you know
That if you wrestle hope you’ll soon submit, there is no rescue boat
You propose to fate and only wait til you and death elope
But in retrospect I’ll resurrect it’s seen through telescopes
I take a hit, my last blunt, it’s funny cause I’ve never smoked
I see the streets of water and then I start calling it Heavens Moat
I let it go, I cant take it, I panic, I yell and show
My conscience it isn’t helping, I scream til my head explodes
My chest corrodes, from breath control, I start lacking sporadic
The water continues to rise and now im trapped in the attic
No more food or water, im calling this dirty mattress a casket
Covered in plastic and maggots I take a stab with a hatchet
At the metal bars on the window I attack it and wack it
There’s no luck though, it’s steel I cant manage to crack it
I get exhausted, so I stop and go back to the mattress,
And lay flat on my back it’s helpless, I laugh and react with
A natural action…
I feel the the tip toe of a tear
I hear the drips, waters coming in the window it appears
At this point I accept death I sit low with now fear
Moments later im in a puddle I grip hold of my years
I spent holding a beer, wasting my life in a bar
Thinking of everything I could do telling my wife that it’s hard
Procrastinating, conscience telling me it’s time I should start
A minds a terrible thing to waist, I kept mine in a jar
I guess it’s time I should start praying, the water’s to my shirt you know
Im gonna drown, I start laughing again, “at least I wont the first to go”
The water’s thirsty flow finds the candle gulping it’s burning glow
And moments later, before I drown, my mind captures it’s vertigo
I can feel my expression, tainted, portrayed with a tyrants grin
I stay focused , from beethovens new haven of violins
The melodic collage of sound astounds the watery shrine within
I find a friend…my inner voice, that’s when the irony begins
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