Illusions And Dead Ends

Am I the weaker man?
Am I weaker?
Am I the weaker man?

The paths before me,
The lands once promised are nothing.
Barren, war stripped.
A desert filled to the brim with the dead.
Every corpse
Another dream,
Another wasted breath.


Standing the test of time,
From peasley canyon road
To the numbers on the wall,
We walked among giants
And our voices were heard.
More than statements of intentions,
We never forget
Who we were
And who we are.

We walked among giants
And our voices were heard.

And all I want is to break free;
To break these roots that have replaced my feet.
For I have become a man
That is one with the earth,
Sedentary.
Buried beneath apathy.
My apathy.

Never forget who we are.
Content at the bottom,
Never see the sun again.
Beaten by what can't be seen by eyes.
Only felt in our hearts.
We are the architects
Of our own demise...
This is my revenge.

But I remain structured,
Anchored in the depths of my beliefs.
Despite the waves that crash at my back,
and tempt to sway my feet.
Be it a fools stance,
It is my revenge and I hold it close.
Remain virulent,
Remain steadfast.
For when the tide settles,
Weary and beaten,
Step by step,
Breaking free of everything;
My heart has grown cold.


Vindicated,
We breathe easy again.
When inspiration becomes an illusion
And paths leading to glory
Turn to the dead end streets I've been treading
All these years.
This is vindication.
This is spite.
This is my apology.
This is my revenge.
I know now I am the better man.

I gave it everything.
Oh God
I gave it everything
I can't breathe
And it's my dreams that are killing me.