Low lights flicker, surrounding the darkness.  Fighting to achieve dominance and determination finds me struggling with pristine whiteness.  But this is not a snowfall; this is a blank notepad where my thoughts fall.  Recklessly skiing down this slope, dodging trees, rocks, and hidden pitfalls.  Fingers are a blur across the keys, synaptic bursts firing nerves to collect the overflow.  Words are composed and my heart is exposed.  I was on fire when I drowned.  Wondering why you worship on high, but you put your face in the ground.  The best of the worst blessed the airwaves, spoke their piece and died before you understood.  And I'm still trying.

The only other thing that faces me is I and I've long since left me behind.  The mirror is shattered.  Can't you see?  The last thing you want is for me to peer into my soul, and extract the thoughts of you.  Deal with what you know and allow the rest to fall fallow.  Salt the land; remain barren like a womb with no eggs.  Tossed into the river of my mind, struggling for the shore, reaching for the phone dialing 9 for an outside line.  Sorry, all circuits are busy!  You take your last breath, but death won't come - you're forced to face you and you can't run.  The eyes never lie so I choose to not see, and I told you I am a fighter disguised as a writer, confused with a poet, for those that didn't know it.  I shine like a dead flashlight at night...

You should have seen me in my prime, sleek rugged, and quick with the tongue.  Then I realized that wine is aged over time.  The value increases, the potency triples, so I slowed the flooding to a trickle.  Now my thoughts are so refined, what was once hazy has now been cleared.  I wouldn't be surprised if I was German engineered.  The way I move from track to track like a new veteran from way back...No longer spiritual, I transcended to the meta-physical.  Hemispherical, I am global.  Cooling the warming, but this is only a warning.  The best is the worst to come.  The fires in my eyes and the flames need fanning.  When asked how old, I explain that we're living in the same age.  You must be history because you keep repeating yourself.  Break the cycle with knowledge of self and determination; infinite like the figure 8.

And I'm just doing what I gotta do.  Not planning a revolution, but I am forming a new alliance opposed to the commonality of normality aka society.  I don't expect to receive Congressional medals or public acceptance.  It's ironic that the lifeless lives reflect the plight of those fighting.  Melancholy I am though I've learned to love it here, though I hate it here, I've staked a claim and I made it here.  When I retire, I don't want the complimentary watch.  No serum can cure the pain I've endured.  They've clipped my wings, so listen to this caged bird sing.  Sweet melodies whispered straight into your ear.  I've provided the ingredients, cooked the food, set the place...sit down and eat.  I's going for my freedom tonight, and I'm not heading north.  Go west young man!  So I packed up, but I didn't move to Beverly.  The hillbilly in the city looking kinda silly until I open my mouth, and now you can't hear me.  My keys open doors and I don't have a pitch - knowledge sells itself.

*Strolling...*