1. Part Of The Machine

Just another face in the crowd
wandering towards obscurity
Driven by the dull desires
of a worn out routine

Stagnant in the suffocating silence
of emotional exile,
a fugitive from freedom
surrenders to mediocrity.

A helpless voice
starting to sink.
You could make a choice
but you never learned to think.

Weary and weakened
victims fall prey
to vague ideals
and passionless play.
Systematic spontaneity
in synchronized society.

Immersed in the cause
and the call of the day,
sacrificed inner needs
give way.
To shared individuality
in collective reality.

A spirit of belonging
satisfies your longing
but the truth is never seen.
False sense of freedom grows
but dependency shows
your part of the machine.

A hopeless choice,
searching for someone real.
You could find that voice
but you never learned to feel.

2. Through Different Eyes

We're walking within a shadow
where echoes of different times resound
looking for memories to relive
in yesterdays that can't be found.

Through different eyes
we keep looking for what we lack.
Changing minds
take us away, and you can't go back.

And staring into ageless eyes
that shared secrets too dark for light
we're searching for old bonds in places
that lie forever out of sight

Through different eyes
we keep looking for what we lack.
Changing minds
take us away, and you can't go back
to different times
or ageless eyes, free from sorrow.
Changing hearts
will hide the past from tomorrow.

Through different eyes we try to find
people and places we've left behind

3. Static Arts

Air currents grind, monotony.
Image defined, static scene.
Adherents bent opinionless
following scent of commoness.

Fit the latest rage,
whatever stains the page.
Then fears allayed,
of lonely shade.

Wheels, they grind...industry.
Insipid finds, out of key.
Opinions bent toward standard waves,
bleaching out divergent shades.

Mock integrity.
Veiled hypocrisy.
Ironic finds,
when selves decried.

Ban expressiveness.
Bold repressiveness
dictated by minds closed tight
and walls that shut out light,
and so we have static acts.

4. A World Apart

We find ourselves in ruin
and it's come too far, how?
It's no use,
too much allowed and abused.

Worlds apart,
they're excused.
When we've warned
they're amused.

We slip right by, and ignore
this sable scene.
We've lives to live,
it's all for one you see.
Why should we think to care,
won't we soon disappear?

Worlds apart,
they're excused.
Balance waived as we speak.

Praised are those with fashions grand,
self concern leads their plans.
A moment's craze and natural crime
subserves a world to malignant minds.

5. At Fate's Hands

Ours is the cry of the helpless, told
in the timeless truth of the written word.

Trapped by the tempest of the blind
our muted calls can't be heard.

Helpless as we stand
amidst the push of thoughtless hands.

We are adrift without direction
in a raging storm on a calm sea.
Clinging to our expectations
to stem the tide of destiny.

Helpless as we fall
beneath the crush of waters walls.

6. The Arena

Words of cunning
shinning stunning.
Men of grandeur
blinding, numbing
with winsome wiles in specious styles.

Speeches etching,
rhyming, wrenching,.
Men so shallow
stumble fetching
for words that maze, to clear their daze.

Calm in disarray.
Sinking day by day.
Hopeless never see
save what they believe.

Choices weakening,
ever sinking.
Men are poisoned
into thinking
That they've a voice above their noise.

Spheres of disarray
worsened by the day.
Sadly led and fooled
without thoughts to rule.

7. Chasing Time

I've watched in silence, without seeing
as a stranger within me grew.
Detached and distanced from the day
while youth's precious years flew.

Chasing time through empty skies
of endless hours,
living for the future.

Visions of brighter days to come
kept the shadows from my sight,
made the present bearable
and obscured the fading light.

Chasing time through the cold void
of solitary days,
living for the future.

Today is within my reach
and tomorrow is so illusive.
But I'm still chasing time
through increasing disillusion,
forever living for
the future of an illusion.

8. Nothing Left To Say

I remember the endless longing
that called inside of me
from fountains of expression
trying to break free.

Nothing left to say
when the walls give way.

Still I can faintly recall
the subtle purity
of youthful inspiration
and insecurity.

Nothing left to say
when the child finds his way.

Pride and the drive that started the dream
turned in time to an endless obsession.
Caught in a vicious circle of compulsion.

Desires bind the truth to secrecy
but behind the aspirations I see
a life devoted to blind ambition
and a mortal man searching for eternity.

Behind the desires
and the wall that gave way
there's a forgotten cause
consumed by the day.

Behind the ambitions
of a child who found his way
there's a cold realization
that our deeds die with the day.
And behind the disguise
of a man with a cause
there's a child screaming
with nothing left to say.

Paralyzed by inhibitions
and indecisions.
What was once a release
is now a prison.