RMC

Under the night,
so long and so crumbling,
has been happiness long gone,
pitiful I am in song.
In all that I’ve done wrong,
I haven’t hurt nor dealt wicked lies
to despise all that tries
to be dealt to me, I predicted.

I am thankful for all songs
beautiful in tone, that sweetly lift
my soul up in a soft sojourn.
If I could travel back in time,
I’d be Superman twisting the globe backwards to roll tides beside
their rocky thrones.

The waves crash into shore,
and there are those who tell tales
that they themselves forgot
they themselves put me through hell.

But I am no Superman,
just a wanting warrior soul
that wants to battle now
those who hurt me and trolled.
But I find solace in the quiet
blankets of cool air.
I found comfort in whiskey
years past I compare.

Comfort in the warmth
of those who would lie
to keep themselves shielded
from their own masks to hide.

All I can do is speak truth
to power that has no mercy.
But forgiveness is read in flame,
asking to remember the same.

That no one is free of guilt,
just us as bent souls,
we drift out to sea to be even
more out of control.
Let us not blame ourselves,
let us give no excuse.
The trauma of a life told
is one of mental abuse.

So I try to grow stronger
in spirit and mind.
To the ends of the earth,
from now on no substance will blind.