28 March 2012
Exhausted diary of dead dreams
Emptiness beacons me quietly
A vortex of built up emotion
Shifting in and out of phase
A paradise broken and shattered
Two streets but only one road
Scorched in my subconscious mind
Fluid motions controlling the outcome
Wrapped up tightly like a forgotten gift
Depressed amusement park of pain
Circling through the same routine becoming absolutely nothing
Hoping for it all but finding none
A phone left off the hook
Repeating a shallow voice
Please hang up and try your call again
A motto for my half baked life
It's time for another hit of reality
Penned on paper before it transpires
Try Your Call Again • Opuss № I