Buried Alive

Drifting from the edge of the sunset

with hieroglyphs tattooed to my back spine,

Happy to feel alive again after so many years…

sometimes sorrow interludes disrupt the nighttime.

But now I feel free in spirit &

proud of how far I’ve come,

Running from the ghost in the mirror,

dancing to the beat of his own drum.

O’ I suppose I shouldn't be surprised,

for in our souls is a constant duel between life and death,

But I’ve reopened my third eye —

to break free from destructive cycles and shortness of breath.

For what a pain fear is,

and what a joy is its counterpart peace,

For what a concept time is,

falling through quicksands in the hourglass of Eve.

O’ we could never be Buried Alive,

but we could walk dead amongst the living…

But why not illuminate the skies?

To break free from glass walls —

and never-ending ceilings?

O’ these are merely questions I pose,

To anyone that can dream…

For what vile discovery does “faith” show?

That to soar through time and space the inverse of “reality” is all you really need…