Oh, what are they going to do when the lights go down

Without you to guide them all to Zion?

What are they going to do when the rivers overrun

Other than tremble incessantly?

High is the way, but all eyes are upon the ground

You were the light and the way they'll only read about

I only pray, Heaven knows when to lift you out

Ten thousand days in the fire is long enough;

You're going home

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFjEp79zaNw

I'm terrified.

Terrified of the crippling pressure of one's expectations, terrified that my only achievement in life will be surviving birth. Terrified that no matter how much I try or how much someone helps me, that I'll become the object of pity. Terrified of the judgement people hold about my uniqueness; even though I flaunt it like a new set of jewelry. Terrified of myself and what I can become-- mentally and emotionally-- when I do fail. I'm terrified that the people I know the most, the people closer to me than my own family will look upon me with grotesque eyes as if I were Satan. I'm terrified of being alone left to wander aimlessly in my chaotic thoughts. I'm terrified the apotheosis inside my brain will one day be set free, and the supper with which is devours is everyone near me. I'm terrified of my knowledge of the insane and how easily it is to crumble. I'm terrified, most of all, by the fact that no matter I do, no matter who I help, no matter how I help them, I can do nothing. Nothing to fix our damnation. Nothing to repair the scars set upon us by religion and racism, scars that only true peace and acceptance can heal. Scars that the world wishes to heal, but is totally unwilling to step forth and heal them. Scars that permeate into everyone, and the scars that ruin everything. I'm terrified, so utterly terrified.

I'm the only one who'd never hear,

Everything you could ever have presented,

Your cries, laughter, and tears,

I took it forgranted,

I never listened,

Forget me,

Please.

It seems self-evident that my incompetencies have hereby and priorly failed my child,

The level of my failure is immeasurable and thus so I’ve made the direst of situations,

It has rested upon my bosom and quenched thirst in all possible desperations,

My child is naturally benevolent yet inherently filthy, and is therefore forever defiled.

Any and all motives and reasonings are negated, creeds are incessantly formulated,

Created and annihilated in a cycle of sanctity and violence as necessities permute,

My child is reckless and endearing, charming and chaotic, peaceful and destitute,

She began long ago, in times much tranquil and-- while evolving-- self-mutilated.

My baby was docile and rife with grace and elegance, young and wholly infantile,

Now, so recently as grasping her puberty, she grows mindless and abhorrent,

Her fingers burn through her flesh ripping her apart, she is her own deterrent,

Her brain is fractured on conflicting dogmas, tenets with lies seemingly anecdotal.

Oh how my child is cracking under her engulfing ardor, consuming rage, and cold lust,

She has treasured and protected herself for much of her infancy and forlorn childhood,

Noticeably changed in her perspective of what she is, and morph her skin has into rust,

I have tried to repent, to aid in all I can heal, but she is fading, I’ve done all I could.

Not so different from what she was, only matured from her original bust, her soft form,

I’ve put all energy into salvation and punishment, her lashing of me is, by degree, harsh,

Her opinions are prerogative and convoluted of I and herself, blurry like a sandstorm,

As groggy and weighty as the marshlands whence she came, all in effect for the farce.

That she is a split Identity, when she is one, and my only child, my only resolution,

My child must realize her truest nature is not in cruelty and hatred, but solely in peace,

She will augment herself from disunity and abyss to a singular being of reconstitution,

If, for my child, I must bear burden calamity, then so shall it be that I become the beast.

Only for my child will I awaken her righteous temperament by beckoning apocalypse,

Only for my child will I call upon my motherly wrath and taint the beauty in her skin,

Only for my child will I damn the light and dark in an eternally dying and living eclipse,

Only for my child will I withstand the agony of betrayal and condemn myself alone again.

When I can’t find time to think, I find time to sink,

And I know, that as I grow, this ain’t the way to go,

But all the stimulants plague this mind of innocence,

Nothing will be fine forever, even the best end severed.

It’s like I’m left alone to wander around dead in anguish,

There is always this one hand, always, without failure,

Here to care, and here to be here perpetually sanguine,

Always enough for me to get by, for me to finally endure.

Hear the next verse,

As I start to revert,

Fall back to my roots,

I’m quite the goose,

Listen as I jump around,

Here to bring lies down.

Our lives are not to be contained and this racism is just the same

and it can’t be explained except for

the anguished and the pained looking

for anyone to blame and it’s just never the same,

we can only walk one way,

and everyone pays when the others walk the other,

aren’t we all just brothers, only difference

is we come from different wombs, but the roots,

all our roots are in common, muddied by the same boots,

the history and the lies get misconstrued and confused with the truth,

and the truth is we are of one nation,

and the only explanation, for subconscious segregation

is the infestation of the idea that discrimination is outright right,

and education keeps teaching it and everything repeats,

the purpose of peace defeated,

and the honor of being together gets repealed,

forthright revoked as it evokes us to try harder,

to shoot farther,

become martyrs,

for the benched to be starters,

we’re all alive, and we should strive,

for nothing but the best,

to cure the unrest,

and everything else will fall in place.

May I not be the best, but am I the worst?

I couldn't be, not after what's happened now?

Yes, for they should realize for their blood I thirst,

And, I know not how, but I shall make them pay somehow,

That for with this wonderous machination,

I shall pave their way to just repentence,

They damned me with fallacious divinations,

And they have yet met their comeuppance,

With this thing that allows to incessantly clone,

This vengeance is no longer too far for conquer,

I may even ponder the salvation of those unknown,

Yes, with me in power everyone will have concurred,

I am the righteous, I am the very justice withheld,

From one and from all, from everyone such like me,

From the pitiest of heavens to the scorchest hells,

I shall reign supremely, none will question continuity,

MY clones, me, yes, the glorious, vile human as I,

Will exude their wills, the desires, the barbaric lust,

And none will squander, none will doubt why,

As I am king! As king I must be avaraicious!

As man, I must be therefore humble in accord,

My past is not something that will stay hidden,

But it's revelation is still able to be afforded,

Otherwise, my army of one persons will steadfasten.

All those who hereby fail to abide,

Will end up lost, evaporated,

In my arms where they have died,

It's body left mangled and desecrated,

Oh! magnificent race of copies,

Come now to my helpless aid,

Let's no longer wonder through corpses,

And hasten towards my dreamt of day.

With this new power,

We'll crush the cowards,

When time dons another hour,

We will chant all the louder!