.​.​.​And God Created Whales

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Are we part of a plan or are we ex-creations of man? Facing the days that we will, we'll never know.

Two letters, whole words; Quit being a moth to a flame. Sun bleached with regrets. Why can't you accept what we can never change;
You're hit with all we've lost.

Getting sharper, don't forget your sense of sensibility. If not, I know something you don't know.

There can only be one, no matter the paradox. And if you're living proof of all things you do, so show them what you're made of!

But there you go...Against all intuition, stained in white radiance. So confident your sins won't bleed right through. Trouble always finds you as you fade away. God damn you, reap your deeds.

Accessibly obsessive in the way we treat the light. Sweet as rain tied to inconvenient truths of believing in everything but ourselves, looking better on paper than through our eyes; We shed that artificial glow. What happened to volition when we've destroyed conviction?

A fate I'd love to sell. Removing fear in sentences. We're never fully here. Dear God, I'll miss the scent of your disillusion sentiment
Displace me from society. Replace me in everything we've worked towards. It's never truly yours, but maybe? Our beautiful chemistry won't come to an end. But these thoughts, all but failing they consist and depend on sacrifice and sacrilege as thieves we do pretend to take these things for granted To regret through lifetimes spent alone.


from Ghost Poet, released April 30, 2016



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