It's A Sin to be a Philosopher.
Thinking about things that have no real meaning
Attempting to find truth within many more truths
Delving deeper into an unknown territory
Becoming wrought with confusion and terrific error
Being insightful can sometimes mean 'Terror'
To think of what feelings really are
Is it supposed to be felt by those from afar?
So fragile these topics as I scratch at their panes
Writing words that I just cannot refrain from
Many a time has this hand broke through the glass
The pressure too vast
The scars on my hand served well with a flask
Filled with a potion known as the Past
How bitter yet satisfying this nectar may be
Yet you never knowing how hard it is to flee
It traps you with it's intoxicating scent
Holding you tightly until you repent
The lies and the feelings
Swirling within your brain
There is not enough time to explain this pain.
To look within is to see into hell
A terrible furnace where the years had all fell
Burning smoke to suffocate your head
Tempting you to grab the gun
To 'Kill yourself dead'.
In these moment's it is hard to remember
Where we all belong in this world asunder
But do not ponder on these things too long
Else it won't be you singing your song.