The Traumatized Rose The living become like walking corpses Doomed men buried beneath dark lies Under the soil an explosion rumbles in the growling earth The angels of the world descending from the skies Demonic manifestations of evil reborn The weak and scared controlled by the ancient and decrepit The unfortunate are forced to walk

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Too Tired to Sleep I wake up, too tired to sleep, Numb from fatigue, find myself on my feet, No time for breakfast, was up too late, Don’t miss the bus or you’ll meet your fate. So you run, Down the road like a bullet from a gun, Get on a bus, like a train

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Beautiful Dreams Beautiful dreams are made developed and crushed Your delightful endeavours, silenced and hushed The hot sun burns, the rain pours all night Heart break happens like a blinding light Memories, hopes, ideas and golden dreams Grow in the dirt from impossible magic beans Tears, sweat, and blood are painfully shed And your dreams

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Hope We stand unaware of the impassable future Sitting all day in front of the computer Love buds in the most unlikely of places Among the old broken things and dusty bookcases Retracing our steps to the very beginning We go where the half-light seems to be thinning But we have to remember not to

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