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This is the Last
Glance, stare This is my last chance A tear in the mirror Got to throw this fear away Stop thrashing your hate at me Let me be Let me die here Let me cry myself to sleep Down I go Pick up the trash Tear at my flesh Move your fingers threw the ash How can you do this to me Leave me be Leave me here to bleed I feed off of misery Three deaths because of me Lead me, pull on me Help me Give me a reason Change this miserable season Come to me angel Let me touch your wings Touch my heart Free me from my anger Cast away all these strangers Remove the the hands that strangle me Everything's a flash of black I'm falling fast Don't let me crash I have one more chance This is the last. © Rick Edgell, 1999 In Your GardenUnlike the rest of your garden I have not lived and then died But rather never lived and always been dead In my head The pain the agony The voices of rage Driving me insane I'm all alone trapped in this cage Strapped to the gate Lights dancing in my head The vision trapped in my mind I was lead to the end of the wire My heart was burning with desire My body full of fire Struggle I did though the yearning was great Straight to you I went And straight to hell I was sent © Rick Edgell, 1999 Twisted MessThis is not happening The rage has died Convicting flame has turned cold Once a tyrant waving your hammer, point the blame, Now the tower is silent, throwing shame over the ground, Crunched over, wondering over, gone over All the evil things once done, Nineteen years, stomping and blackening All light, every night Yelling your word, Casting the gray gloom, All dark, every day Swallowing the blue sky, Streaming about False doom, you spread within, Making use of are needs, A womb,dead inside Life you killed, light, no cry Holding the wrinkled silent one You never did, Death was born,dark,screaming Grasping for the cold one, Hell awakened, living every wound, The hammer across the weak ones back, Watching her crack She never wanted to be a whore, But you said the curse, She is becoming, I am watching The darkest images of need Sucking the life away from the dead Giving no end, Silently he waits for you, Off in the back room, All has come to pass, now silence, At a distance Looking into the dark red coal, inside A twisted mess, Hurricanes beating on are hallow chest, The wind now has died, silently You cry, Boiling hate for the past, ask Given the time, could this ever be forgiven? © Rick Edgell, 1999 |