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"A Butterfly Trapped In A Cocoon"Nov 28 '04 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line maybe tomorrow; it's always maybe tomorrow; on the last day, maybe tomorrow won't work
Hanging from a tree dark in the midnight who lost its last twinkle of light Lays dormant an act of suspended God's will Whose hope can't spill out of the silky ball which signals good things to come But a drum that doesn't drum or a guitar that doesn't strum Couldn't communicate the melody of a life-breathing soul Waiting to make an imprint or a broken liberty bell toll Let this be my scroll which remains decipherable in the hands of the people Not the evil or the ones who create victims just so they can be masters Only the ones who capture the grace in a losing race And I hope to erase all memories of standing in place Escape and maybe caress a young caterpillar and see it mature without fear Or find companions in this abandoned forest of tears But man it's desolate and I doubt anyone else is out there In a world of blank stares I want to fade out the regret with a sun that never sets But I'm better off flying into a little girl's net Living in a jar where my wings can barely stretch Might be better than dying in this world's mindset Where all idealists are scared to get their feet wet If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge for me to emerge soon If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge for me to emerge soon I'm trapped behind the walls of the greatest empire yet to fall I'll soon prey(pray) shortly after the bald eagle calls A butterfly who won't survive because that's not the object of nature You can read it in my nomenclature I know Square wouldn't want to tell my Final Fantasy My metamorphoses is a casualty of someone else's tragedy A heart bleeding badly, a phenix(phoenix) down refusing to rise from the ashes A passerby in the titan's clashes A pacifist who won't pacify the savage masses 100 lashes to the man who seeks harmony amongst the earth rapers and war mongers For every village you pillage your reputation becomes stronger It's a risk for me to even teach a child to think for themselves I'm better off keeping my earnest ways on the shelf To see their glowing smiles as a reflection of perfection provides temporary help Until Mother Earth cries and sighs before she dies And my righteousness is a disguise utilized for humanity to sever all ties Until by everyone's surprise the ultimate demise is sucked in by shattered skies Then I'd observe the perishing of those you considered wise If I could ever grow wings, break out, and rise If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge to emerge soon If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge to emerge soon The most lonely feeling exists in every attempt in vain To reclaim the spirit; those in charge so fear it they raise a wall like Berlin In order to keep loved ones from binding together and hurlin' stones at the aristocrats Those who sit and twist the facts Instead they're abusing the wall which never wanted to erect in the first place A waste of energy in an obsolete time and space The powerful laugh in our face as we direct our purpose toward a wild goose chase Looking for love in the wrong place and freedom when we're captive in a horse race But why should I expect you to care when the only thing you put stock in is a share? Instead of dreaming in the eyes of your little baby daughter Your just another pawn in a global manslaughter And you'll never figure it out until the skies rain blood from ten thousand abortions per year Then when one drop soaks me in here I'll wish I hadn't given in to my last tear If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge to emerge soon If I could reverse time and jump back in the womb There would be no urge to emerge soon As dry land gets rained upon and rain becomes puddles I censor myself through the belief that liberation is found in a muzzle Possibly a satisfaction in the fulfillment of my dire prophecies The deterioration of the disillusioned through perpetuated monstrosities Or to put it simple, we're monsters The blind leading the blind And since I'm content to marinate between phases of life, I'm one of the worst kind A kid who yearns to believe in Santa and sit on daddy's lap one more time Resolving himself to the reality that it's time which is the only clause(Claus) And that man is binded to these laws which prevent us from becoming one with the stars So we reduce ourselves to worth in fancy houses and cars Not in cuddles, bear hugs, and warm feelings preserved in jars Who's world is this? The tyrant's, CEO's, or our's? Contemplations have me playing the insomniac's role in my one-man's room I'm laying with one eye open in this cocoon Maybe if your trumpet plays a somber tune I'll break out soon Come back and check for me after the next moon * * * * * * * * * * Over haunting pianos that become your spirit, pounding percussion that becomes your lungs, bass that becomes your tortured past, and words that become your heart, I plead with you. * * * * * * * * * * For more information about Cryptic Cradle and his reviews, please click here. * * * * * * * * * * This has been a Cryptic Cradle Production.  |
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