Day Of The Manic

So consumed with age I last;
I stab at the heavens aghast.
Tell somebody quick I’ve let
my past pass a little too fast.

I don’t know my ways I’m lost
and the value of my life’s up.
The world turned and friendly
blood it flows over our cup.

We want it all and the light
we are suppose to share stops.
Trust me friends Lord above he
is pain when he sees the cost.

Emotions run me impulsive but
my temper checked I’m fine.
My cup is not blood of another,
but of the one who lived divine.

I’m a want I’m a desire with fire
who has dwindled in the day.
I ask my friends outside but now
fewer out there decide play.

We are just children blind ants
I’m afraid I tell myself in panic.
Then I see my tattooed crucifix
and become less damn manic.

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