live in a dream world

and when no friends are found

in those lonely nights camped in the woods

turn to the loyalty of the page;

the stories already within you

(or at least the nonsense that is about to be)

 

when pain aches inside the body

distill it with the power of the mind;

the shamanistic healings of determination

allow the healer within to heal

 

when fury consumes the soul

finding only hatred where family should be

open all valves – scream cry curse and fuck;

squeeze the rag dry

into each song

 

above all, though

regardless of the endless truths everyone seems to have

sometimes

the only way to survive

is to live

in a dream world

 

 

af

 

 

(written with pen on paper)