Who will count the loss?


Terror.

And you're all here
Now what?
What do you want next?

Pow Wow Way- by: unknown forgotten

And, OR
My self destruction button has gone stiff
It used to be so easy to cause devastation to myself
Such a therapeutic release
Now call the night easy sleep
No harsh words or interaction to throw fists
I'd rather sit than cause ruckus
Or space out than interact in discussion
Voluntary sleep over passing out
Wreckless nights of tossing and turning over spent out crashing down
Still quiet boredom instead of utter self destruction
Devastation is what I want to self inflict?
Or mediocracy for simplicity in a black world behind little shut eyes?
If I could fall in a moment of destructive glory
Or if I could hide behind doors and miss that thing I called life
I know the answer when I drown,
and I'm alright in a shifting tide and undertoe

A Message to The 45th Floor, Office 12- by: unknown forgotten

Squeezing blood from a dirty whore
You're getting more wretched every moment
And your soul is dieing more every moment
What'll you do when you can't call her back?
So lonely on a weekday 'working late' at night

You soiled your brand new car
And your wife is asleep at home
How much money can your associates fork over
To cover up this mess and your quiet bank rupture
But they're way too preoccupied to even consider a compromise
Now you're neck is theirs and they're sharpening knives
They have the right
You broke their backs more than once, more than twice

Office doors and secure phone calls can't keep out truth
Lies seep like toxic ooze
You're done for
Boy, your children are going to be disappointed.

we are not AM- by: unknown forgotten

Submit yourself into the submersion of being
Drown out the day and the future
Violently decapitate the past with an axe
Then sit still for a minute, make that only enough
And let this be the only time you stop living

Revel in what you have become
And why is it that you're there?
Nothing is absolutely no thing at all
Imagination is worthless to think realistically
Dreams are comforting but flawed and fake
Submit to every minute you exist
Where is the reason to keep going into the next minute?
How does each minute of your life separate itself from the next
Take all your mind capacity and focus it on existing
Take heart, here we are, all of us ever

We are here now
Our minds can not control what we want to happen
Our brains can not control what will happen inside and outside of us
Are we all so afraid now to then comply to the fact that we exist despite our actions?
We are smarter than that to smite ourselves and defy God
So we drag upon the land with heavy feet and downcast eyes
We will be because we are and can not change that
Consider you didn't wake up ever again
We never perceive that to be a premise tomorrow

We will always awake
Be it in our beds under soft sheets or in Heaven
Be it in the alley drunk or in hell burning
Thus we must submit ourselves to existing
We must be submissive to being
Otherwise, we have missed the point of living
We are not I AM,
we just are