This might be a battle I’ve walked into
While exploring the dark of the loudening woods
Attracted by the lights and humanity
I’ve clearly misunderstood
The grave difference between
A greeeting and a scream.

Or should I be forced here
Into this place to observe
I’ll hold my breath and pretend to disappear
Because I haven’t got the nerve
To watch death in all its glory
Directing for me a story
I thought of long ago
But only to think it then let it go
Now before my eyes-this is not what I envisioned
Within my own private lies
I find myself imprisioned
In this space beside the army of trees
Believing in prayer again, humbled on my knees
Ready to swear I’ll never again harbor a foul thought…
But only in moments like these can I
Cure my disease…
I’ll sit here and quench my appetite
For this chronically blurred sight
And I suppose I can watch.
After all…this isn’t real.
I’ve narrated what I’ve seen…
So I’ll narrate how I feel.
(sickened by my own mind, conscience left far behind)