Way Out

Rose red, rose red
Black garden, botanically dead
Marriage of light and death
Union of eternal breath
Hear the Angel sing from unspoiled springs
Watch the Angel with broken wing
fall to the barren wastelands of time
fall like children of the unseen sky
Illusion so real, now one in the same
It's the best we can do in this matrix of shame
Deep in the art of war time games
Comic book heroes tell of woeful victories and,
emotionally fought gains
Find truth in the spoils
Lose nothing in the lies
Everybody knows
Everyone is avoiding the agents of their own mind
We make our own heaven
We make our own hell
We make or own way out
We make our own way out

Written 2004