whitelightriver

Author: Me
Title: On Hell

Does he guide you closer to me?
Maybe I'm not scared.
He's got more to offer
In terms of convenience and comfort.
Maybe I chose this path, changed the
- polarity +

I can always look forward to a warm bed
All the best things in life
And all the coolest people
Who were just too good for your
Little club.

We tried harder to get in,
Earned our seats at the VIP table.
While you lose your hearing in the presence of angels,
We bow our heads
In laughter, mind you, not prayer

You sit with the holy
I hang with the wholesome
Noncomformists, revolutionaries
Greatest thinkers of their time
The excommunicated, the exemplary

But now is our time to shine.
Or, more accurately, yours
As your eyes glow so brightly
And so jealous
As you stare tirelessly
Into the life flames
Of the club you couldn't get into.

We ran our routes, drowned at your hands,
Ate shit for a living.

You ran laps around your halo
With a conscience only as clean and white
As the latex paint could get it.

We see now that you dream like us,
Laugh as you run the eraser over your thoughts,
Scribble a heartfelt piece,
And send it skywards.

You onlylturn your back to avert your eyes
From the explosion, inevitable to the core
That rings cleanly through the sky.
Aw sweetie, your hope broke!
Heaven will fix it. Now that's
What I call
Incentive.

We swung our blind bats in the darkness
Of our sketchy lives
And hit the ball directly out of our
Hearts.

And they are so free tonight!
That we say without second thoughts.
Our only wishes, captivated behind smiling cages we dare not liberate,
Are that we could experience the ultimate high,
The life you display on the world stage
Day to day,
Burning bushes,
Screaming INSANITY!

And baby, you're overstocked.
Pharmaceuticals versus paper and tears
And the winner is born declared.
You trade explosions for magnets for dollars.
You trade
Explosions for
Magnets for
Fucking dollars.

So now the joke is on you,
The ironically-labeled righteous.
We drink to you.
Your bombs spared us the opportunity,
And a wonderful one, we might add,
To spend our eternal lives
In the same way we breathed on Earth -
As outcasts.

Do you despise our indolence?
Our benefits?
Stay vocal, and results will truly come.

Thank the Second Law for that one.
God, hot air, and eyes made to roll.
You'll die with a full stomach, a full pocket,
But an expensive window that is permanently sealed
To outstretched hands.

They call you by many names,
But "The Flawed" will work for our purposes.
Do any among you detest the moniker?
Does its correctness rip the flesh off of your
Counterarguments?

I win on five accounts, irretrievable points
To be certain:

One. Life. Where did yours go?
Two. Love. Expression. Every form, every face.
Three. Truth. The search and receipt of.
Four. Mind. A much larger accepting receptacle.
Five. Wings. We flew circles around you as you knelt
to wish upon a star for the false idols hovering above.

This round's on us.
Continue fighting, banning, censoring,
burning, concealing, ignoring,
Murdering every idea that we produce
Which patriotically takes aim at
The parasitic lies.
They're contagious, you know.

And now my fingers take a nap.