Cynic's rantings.

Run. Fall. Don't. Be.
Reasons. Cause. Misery.
Do. Die. Don't. Plan.
Run through all that become a man.
Dah it all and try again.
Don't complain and don't be bitter.
Let go of ghostling daze and glitter.

Fly and flow and land again.
Give up what you planned again.
Salvation goes unmanned again.
And this leaves us with what?

Please, don't worry, please, don't worry.
I'd like to tell you all I'm sorry.
I stop, I will, I'm sorry, I swear.
Forsaken all is everywhere.
Complications make me cough.
The mind inside tell me "enough"?

Slash at pain in righteous fury,
Judged non-existent by the loner's jury,
Tough it is, it is rough,
The mind inside tells me, "enough"?

Wish you never gave me the choice.
Never should have given my hope a voice.
And quelling it now hurts more than before.
My mind is trying and my heart is sore.

More, more, more, more.
Misery's, frankly, a bloody bore.
Or, at least, it ought to be,
So sarcastic joy, can be free.