Talking to self

Drop dead
from the hills of sadness
Drop dead
into sea of madness
Drop dead
with a blanked out mind and
Drop dead
along the sands of time

Hold on
to what you hold as dear
Hold on
you got to make it clear
Hold on
you better think about it
Hold on
until the lights break out

Crayon Skies

Studded minefields
a treacherous heaven
battletank joyrides
A K four seven

Dried up bread
and empty canteen
oh ! what a paradise
sure it has been

Silence pouring
from innocent faces
gazes boring
in hopeless traces

with leaden eyes
they're asking, why
there's crimson blood
on crayon skies ?

(dedicated to the children of war torn regions)