The words I picture just may be wisdom;
An isolation from the illusion; reality.
They may just be the words written below the surface.
I'm swimming in quicksand; This is where you may find me.
The texture of my skin is pale,
But don't blame the daylight that never coated me.
It's the silver walls of the cave I'm lost in;
This has been the pool of my endless poetry.
If I pass you by, you won't know anything but my name;
A name so cleverly weaved into my flesh and bones.
So take a step into my silver, search here and speak to my soul.
Cause if you were to stare into my eyes, I would close them to blind you.
I would rip through your skin, and dig deep enough to find you,
And when it's all over, this is where you may find me.
