This is the World
I walk alone beneath the stars
Licking my wounds and hiding my scars
No one can know of my pain
That for eternity I must learn to be lonely.
But the words sit like ducks on the tip of my tongue
And they want to be breathed into
ideas and bitter blasphemies
Pinpoints of infinity dancing through my mind
Alone now and into eternity, I write
words of strife disguised as stories
My only friends are creatures brought to life
by my pen, heroes and monsters--
My heroes are monsters--
And to some degree, I am my monsters.
Reality always seems so shallow.
So the words sit like ducks on the tip of my tongue
And I choose not to be silent any longer.
I will scream those bitter blasphemies to life!--
And you will not see me coming.
There are pinpoints of infinity dancing through my mind
I am the goddess of solitude,
so being alone can't scare me, and besides,
life always seems like a masquerade
no one showing their real self,
but garish faces of glitter and gold.
And we've been trained to be silent--
a true face stands out among false ones--
So history will decide if I am good or evil, but
from a certain point of view, we are all monsters.
But can you feel those pinpoints of infinity
The harbingers of destiny? Can you feel
the light of good shatter like broken glass?
There is no black and white. My monsters tell me
that the world is not told in gray, either--
This is a world of color.
And even in my solitude, I can see it.
This is the world.
And though I am the goddess of solitude,
through my ink I have learned to be lonely.
Now I look upon the world as though
I were not any part of it,
And I am grateful for my solitude.
This is a crazy world.
So I walk alone among the stars,
smiling wrily at the ground.
"You cannot hurt me," I say. And I know
with a strange certainty that I am destiny.
I can see that they despise me
because I am different, and they
do not understand me, so they fear me.
Through writing I can see that those
pinpoints of infinity are stars within my mind,
To keep me company as I tread alone upon this world of color.
Through writing I have seen that this
is not a cruel world, just a strange one.
So the ducks sit like words on the tip of my tongue,
desperately wanting to be breathed
into philosophies and bitter blasphemies--
Would you have me silence them?
I am the goddess of solitude,
the harbinger of destiny,
I will show the world its reflection
its image from the eyes of an outsider.
A world of color surrounded by pinpoints of infinity?--
Yes, this is the world.