Aquit me of my fears
and look above for guidance
no crying anymore,
no more unjust defiance.

Schizophrenia in my pen
two sides of every story, in one head
why the sadness of words
projects to everyones nerves.

Blurt out the words
of the less-than-truthful
and celebrate the corruption
of a once great soul.

Can there be any justice
for the wicked and the wrong
maybe some for the reformed,
and none for who conformed.

There's never a false promise.
Isn't inspiration a false expectation?
Believe in your own creations
because in them is your sanity and salvation.

A tone of fear in my eloquence, no?
As a servant, words command my reverence
sorrow fills this world
so unjust and corrupt
unsurprisingly I'll say
the world won't listen or wait
to hear the the truth or see the fate
of an artist, who would lie to show the truth.

©Emil De Leon/Ivan Mujica 2009