By: Richard “Shane” Johnson
Nowhere to be, free as I want.
It’s either a dream, a realm,
Or could even be my hell!
Just taking up space, in this
“so called” Land of the free.
It Almost seems, I’m swaggering thee.
Yet, not so glamorous, but
Oh so “DARK”. Light sneaks in,
as to Post its mark.
Sun goes down, even the
sound. Night stalks in,
To free its sin.
It’s a weary feeling, since
Of confusion. As Angels rest,
Demons are flurrying.
They pull the strings, like
They are the masters. Puppeteering
people, to their disaster.
Controlling their minds, and driving
Their hearts. Into thinking,
“It’s better, to live in the DARK!”
