Filth swarms around me,

wading through a marsh of waste,

wading through to reach the light on the other side,

undead hands reach up to drag me down.

------------

Looking at the world through old frosted glass,

cracked, distorted, rusted, stained,

leaving me seeing nothing at all,

only what I imagine I’d see.

------------

All I see,

is a lie,

and what I reject,

is the truth.

------------

I stand on a high pedestal,

polished and shining,

for all to see,

in a abandoned, forgotten hall.

------------

I be the gentle wild flower,

left up dry on the table top,

reaching for the sun,

that only shines through the tv.

------------

The life I seek,

was never there.

------------

What truth is,

It is life!

------------

And the truth to me looked of filth,

I pushed it away.