Not To Be Commanded

There are nights when sleep evades,
My tired eyes; yet thought invades,
To make my hallow head howl loud;
Tonight, you will not find a crowd,
In thronged masses; city streets,
Tonight, no DJ drops his beats.

There are nights when sleep comes soon,
Under the brightly-lit full moon;
My thoughts, lie strewn throughout this mess,
I call my brain; the cut-slack caress,
Of my gift in which I care,
So little for the systems 'fair,'
They tell me structure has it's place,
In this chaos we call the human race;
Yet the guns and guts beg to tell,
A different story, of others hell.

Now I'm not one to run from black;
And I'm not one to move off track,
Yet the beaten trail, I find used,
And along it lies the bodies,
Bruised,
Of those who chased the distant dreams,
Of alcohol and slot-machines.

The TV blares, until nights end;
It tells us fame sits around the bend,
That we do walk past,
Everyday,
Like I can't see the gullible sway,
Towards such lies;
They grow so old,
Around that bend,
Lie's fools gold.

The beat, upon it's own does change,
From black to blue,
And red to gray;
The ones that fear such backlash say,
'Does color matter anyway?'
Is there a separate end,
To night and day?

To say the least,
Time is a lie,
A lie which tells me when I die;
Please, when I die, you can cry,
But not because we won't speak again,
Instead because throughout your veins,
I pulsed like blood, seeped like sweat,
And now all I do, is beset,
Your head with thoughts of then,
Which envelope for the moment, now;
Yet I am still the sweat on your brow,
I am the words you speak,
And moves you make;
I left you empty, in my wake,
And as of now, you must fulfill;
That is my last wish, my last will.

Full of hatred, be mankind,
Yet now the light they've dodged,
Is there to find,
In others words,
There thoughts, in kind,
Twist fervently forwards,
The future in which I won't be,
Our actions made this new man free.

I am, yet then I am not,
For my partial head has caught,
The virus I asked to infect,
To find within our souls; collect,
The universe is large above;
Do you think stars fall in love?

Glassy eyed,
I look at you.
I'm tired, yes,
And so are you,
Yet upon our faces,
We both wear,
Projections that we both do care,
So much for what we both are;
When we're with each other,
Our minds meld,
Like molten iron,
No thoughts withheld;
They say that kisses seem to weld,
Forever stronger than industrial bonds;
Of you, yes, I'm dearly fond.

The King upon the mountain screams,
You must all see, I, too, have cracked seams;
I to am just as flawed,
And now to that,
You must applaud.

For through these cheers,
The truth is shown;
We all have at least one charred bone,

And there is no such thing as being alone.