My Disorder

All that I was hoping for
I have achieved in order
from a drum beat’s cadence
comes my own disorder.

Nonchalant to exquisite
rich tones and laughter
you follow every word I
expel to my own disaster. 

Down all the way down I
desire from a child grown
some moments to be civil
not with conflicted tone.

The music within me it
had died and all had gone.
A rhythmic drum ensnares
me I will repair all wrong.

What is in my proximity
so close there is no calm?
Have a beat in your heart
strike so I learn your song.

Mine had been metallic it
dredged dug under sound
that beats unholy overtures
repeating, ‘my hell is found.’

Selfish I am keeping beat
of remarkable remarks so
give unto me gifts of beauty
so my disorder slows.

Purified by your love,
purified by our heat,
I am captured so my head
calls for an allegiant beat.

A drum is subconscious
it beats just as so does heart.
Let us create beautiful art
to expose our insecure parts.

Vacant is a desire for fame
I listen to my mind over
and over again my friend
luck is not found in clover.

We make ourselves healthy
so amongst us we can fight.
So damn to reality friend let’s
make our own one tonight.

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