I Hear Black

Too much is never enough
Always wanting more
Who is wrong?
When everyone thinks they’re right
Let’s all pray to God
See who He answers first
Blinded by lies
Calls of

Tsk, tsk
What one feels in their heart
Determines what is right
So many lines drawn
Each side willing to die
Freedom of religion
No freedom of mine

In the mind’s eye
Life through our own prism
Tells us we are right
Guides by voices
Somewhere in the night

Ah, but I have spent a lifetime
Others not willing to listen to my song
Laugh in contempt
Tell me reasons I am wrong
For me, an island
Left alone to play

Pickup your gun
Bring your God
Bring your bomb
Meet me at the finish line
You’ll see what you have done

Dance my children
Go to play
I hear black
Satan will say
Choose who is right
None of it matters anymore
Breath your last breath
I’ve opened Hell’s Door
For here all of you will stay
In flames, you will perish tonight.

Painting by Hugh Syme




I know you are doing what you need to do. I know it is ultimately right. I understand your situation. You painted a canvass for me of friendship. It hurts to know the words were made of water colors. It hurts that you pretend nothing ever happened. I’m sorry my colors were opposite of yours. I painted in the direction I thought was right and stand by what I created. I was a true friend to you and now – we are nothing. Friendships are a palette of colors. I painted true yet I feel betrayed. Maybe cause I find in you how my past still remains. I’m sorry that things are now black and white.

I’m sorry that a cold splash of reality caused all the colors of my canvass to dissipate. I wonder what you are thinking. I wonder how you can wear a facade and watch as the colors run dry. The picture was painted with bright hues that now fade as they melt away.

I don’t know what is worse…our canvasses are now dry or we pretend they never existed.