Superstitions

The only reason they want me alive
is so everyday they can pray I suicide
I'm the clown they found so fitting
To keep diminishing
Listening to heart strings
Once before behold the man rotting in erotic gold
Often told solo will never make it out
Proud of who now?
Apart of what crowd? These shadows I hang around
Sabotage so I can never see the sun rays that lay behind these clouds
Now I surround with dead like, whose hunger is flesh like
In the dead night I worry about my state of mind
Sometimes I feel like I've already been tricked to a bind
If I never find this  vessel or never pick up this pencile
I will silently suffocate
Violently turn of pace
My clincher my voided pressure
They want bars but can't handle the sentence
Anvil of tention, pay attention
What's the point of building this kingdom
If every bridge is burnt to connect you between them
Lately I been daily painted in a blaze
That affects the phase of human contact
Plus if I build thats twenty steps back
Yet i wake up energy is beyond god speed  
I can not sleep all I can do is just think
Of ways to climb this mountain
That's been at my heel  
I have tried since I first chose the path of the old and ignored the wise
I just feel I can not escape the wrath of which has a hold on my vocal cords and eyes