#120

Rebel Against It (April 30)

Is this the end? Or a new beginning?
I see a road extending ahead of me
and I can't help but wonder about everything.
Is this really it? Is this what I want? Is it worth it?
I don't know, and the only way to know
is to keep going, walking the long, long road
and if there's pain, well there's pain
and if there isn't, then try again.
Eventually, it will hit me, and I'll part ways
with the memories, and dreams in my head
and continue on the road, finding my way.

And I can only trust God with my feelings
of doubt, of pain, and uncertainty
as I walk and walk, hoping to find anything
that might lead my way through eternity.
Will I regret my road? Will I regret my choice?
I don't know, I don't know, I'm just a little boy
trying to find his way through this Earth
trying to find a dream through this Hell
and maybe I won't, maybe I'll fade
into the nothingness of the world ahead
it'll be, to be honest, all the same.

The road behind let me to the road in front
and the road in front separates into a million more
and I don't know which one to choose!
Where should I go? What should I do?
I don't know, do what feels right.
But I'm scared, what if it's not the one?
Then take it and leave it, and choose the night.
'Cause the stars lead the way towards anything
and if you look closely, the stars are pretty much everything.
They have their glow, they have their heat
and they also have their soul, one which always burns.

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! That's what I always say
and who can blame me? That's the guilt inside my head
as it follows me throughout every day, every footstep
sleeping with me, crying with me, sharing with me
everything that's been happening to me, if anything
can alleviate the burden I've placed on my shoulders.
I'm carrying the stone, and I don't know if I'll resist
and collapse to the ground, and cry all about
the days I wasted, the faces I hated
even though there's nothing that can be done.
Even if there's nothing left to do anymore.

It's the worst feeling you can get at night
the weight on your chest, imaginary, if that,
as it weighs down on you, painstakingly reminding you
that your fantasies and dreams are merely just that,
simple, childish, egotistical memories.
But they're what keep me driving on and on!
They're what make me breathe and eat and sleep!
The dream of actually achieving something
the dream of actually feeling like one's worth something!
But we all know, that no one's worth nothing.
No one has the fault of being nothing.

So become nothing, and strive to be something,
perhaps it won't happen, perhaps it will
but the only thing that will matter
is the fact that we all struggled against it.
We all tried to rebel against it.


Well, that's it for The Poetic April. This was supposed to be a Chant Royal, but I got carried away and said fuck it with the structure. I'll see you guys tomorrow, in The Unwasted May. I thought I was going to have a Summer Wasting, but now, not so much. May definitely won't be wasted, though, now that I have a job.

See you tomorrow.