Where is the Night

A quest to find the fact that is life,

armed with a scratch pad and ballpoint knife,

thinking about how to end my midlife strife,

trapped in a cycle that only allows to suffer,

living in a household that only breeds destruction,

out to end all with all possible replications.

with only a single lifelong sacrifice,

outcome will be decided in an angels game of dice.

fed life since I was nine,

a high dose of my cold blood,

dreams and fantasies and everything that will rust.

Money and gold is the only things that will make your life last.

I’m disaster relief medic,

don’t worry who I am, I am not here to take credit,

I'm actually to here create a record,

written in blood and sweat in the sheet that is grace,

not knowing if there is a snoozing God,

not knowing if there is anything that will get me out of this place,

hoping for mercy in a life I may not deserve,

hoping to keep up the act in order to get over the border,

to get someplace you turn the curve,

find out that your dream is already in reserve.

Nothing is for sure,

reality is just a screen of dust, only blurs and cannot be flushed,

the only you can count on,

is the very second you live on,

Forget about it all,

friends and family go,

you are the only real person you depend on

before human race future must be decide really hard to

aquire some sanity for my dear humanity.

Oh God please help me rage against the coming of the night

I survived for too long yet I never being alive

I can not fight the dying of the light

Because I live in a perpetual epiliptic twilight

The world aint black and white, it is my legal right to live out of this giant gray line

I will bleed on those stripes to keep the red highlight on that otherwise white kite