Wondering, if given the motivation
if allowed by way of self
if time had degradated the will
corroded the support beams
the pillars of the soul, holding, desprately
My image of myself above muddy waters
Could I make my down the lonely road?
Would I steal off into the night, late in the spring
Play a song and bellow and wale at the oppertune moments
and drive myself into the rives, casting off the mortal coril?
Perhaps too Dramatic, lets take a more mellow apporach.
Knife in hand, hatred of the man in the mirror ovewhelming
I've seen this scene before.
Start at the eyes, cut curves down to my neck
dance the blade over my stomach and follow the trails
down past my navil and end at side of my legs.
This method perhapse to painfull, coweradace would impede progress
Or, maybe, insted of all the sitting and pondering and wondering
I will take the initiative, get out of this chair
and try to find a sunset.