seasonal sparrows

i think i am ready
to lay down in the dirt all of everything erased

when i awake ill be the son of something terrible
seeing how nothing and something are the same

how your nightmares breathe on you in your sleep
the same is said for your best dreams, oh believers settle down the streets

its the same the same damn thing

i am ready to return to the unliving
a colony of ghosts dwelling in and off of a solemn denial that anything good exists alive in this world if you cant hold it in your hand, if it doesnt give itself to the ashen earth, ive seen that too burn

but how do you see yourself darling? self assured and standing thin?
how do you see yourself brother? self-possessed swallowed in sin?
how do you see yourself mother? self-contained demanding fortune?
how do you see yourself father? self-guided followed by kids?

did it ever just seem too heavy to keep keeping on, i kept in the rivers followed by the silence of a live barely living. i walked down to the shore to see your reflection painted and erased in timeless throes, an arbitrator for your conscious i have come to see im just that shadow stretched by your bright bright future, optical illusions painted and erased, when i lay down in the dirt i will awake to be the son of something terrible. when i awake i will be the son of something terrible. when i awake in the darkness i will be something terrible, running from who i was not once but before that, so ill see myself dispossessed, a laughing sin. we are born here and meant to die where delicate hearts realize the world is wide, wider than yourself. they are all the same:seasonal sparrows flocking to where the wind blows a new home amongst some seeds of injury. so scatter your infamy. so scatter you unruly, so scatter your prudence, be swallowed by the sun.