Somehow you see through the fog,
able to discern my falsehoods, my deepest lies.
Looking past the façade I’ve built,
keeping all my secrets safe.
Peering into this soul, by way of my eyes,
understanding why I’ve kept silent.
You have seen the empty look,
a blank stare, hoping to fool your perception.
Believing that I am shrewd, I mislead,
fabricating all that I am…to you.
But you perceive me as I truly am,
nothing more than a man, mortal and weak.
These hands as well fool you not,
but another betraying sign of reality.
As if a guiding light, drawing you near,
holding on to a dream, of indistinguishable dark.
My feet somehow take me from safety,
hastening to all that I dread, and take pleasure in.
A wanderer through the valley of doubt,
a pilgrimage unlike no other, ever.
But you see me, through my music,
serenading phantoms of my mind.
Composing rhymes to satisfy unknown demons,
which only I recognize, and accept as real.
From the “Shadows” I cry out in anger,
beating a drum heard by deaf ears, silent hearts.
Forever pulled into an abyss of uncertainty,
holding back the screams of divine enlightenment.
Yes, you see the real me,
a variation of the truth we seek.
A martyr with no one to persecute,
trodden by the only one that matters, you.