Birds cannot nest in the sky,
Even if in the sky they wish to perpetually pry,
The earth sinks them in over time their bodies turn weary and thin,
They flap in the distant sky,
Oblivious to my envious eye,
Oh how i yearn to flap my wings,
Ruminate no longer of my sufferings,
Know no god or his mercy,
Know no greed to have mans heed,

I write for no noble cause,
I spill all I never was,
Selfishly I prey on hate,
And engulf it without debate,
My heart beats and death it cheats,
Oblivious to my minds defeat.

I have yet to feel warm in this stagnant cold water,

I have yet to become my father's loving daughter.

He who's empty
  has no fear:
  there's nothing
  to be taken away
  he holds nothing dear-
  
life is illusive
like will-o'-the-wisp
to have dreams
is to be deceived-

he who's empty
doesn't seek to compete
win or achieve
in being nothing
he doesn't lose anything-
unseen, unknown and unnoticed
he retains his life's intrinsic

Time is a starving god
And each year she becomes more savage
Her gluttonous face stuffing
My years drip from her cheeks
As if my slow aging is payment for my existence
I give a year to live the next
Turning life onto a sacrificial death
To appease an ever unsatisfied deity
A mindless consumer of the harshest variety