The epicenter is made
I am alone
holding my knees
in this half lit dungeon

I'm bored
and almost uncontent

I'm nobody
like a tree falling
and hand clapping

I'm unseen
nobody knows
I'm not ranting

I'm like a talent hidden away
and buried
in the wilderness
in the middle of a swamp
where the banks are muddy
and the flies are the only ones that eat

But why should I die?
when the sun's hope is so bright?
I can see that hope in the sky
with all it's witnesses

What need do I have for death?
what way do I have for sin?

I almost want to know
what could be worse

I want to know how to make things better
But it's useless
I'll just find the worst
and then I'll be spent

So I wait for the sun
even though I might become burned

I wait for the air's ocean
and it's fluffy witnesses
which may or may not show up

I know I will
I'll be here
sexless
yet still depraved

At least I know what it's like
in the end
when the colors mend
and newness comes
like the wind

I'll remember
I'll remember the sand

I'll never forget
to sacrifice romance
and be a friend
with the godly hope
of being the best
then again
I'm not too much one to smother
though I can be a pest

This isn't a game
But I can still be Conquest
just as I can hear the mystery in my head