The lyricist

[This started out as an attempt to write song lyrics. I think its turned out inbetween poetry and lyrics. It would be good as either, except that the rhyming has been sacrificed in places, and gotten overpoetic for lyrics in other places.

Ok, enough about it.

Dedicated to me. An escapist dedication, for a true dedication would be telling.]

Walking down a narrow road,

Its dark around, yet far from cold,

The discomfort of my world has had me implode.

The silence about can't penetrate in

You're singing aloud, no peace within,

Can't shut you out; I'm lost in your possession.

Into your lines, I'd wanted to dive,

Exploring the rhyme, I thought I'd thrive,

But I'm going senile; unable to survive.

The flow is too powerful, the meaning too deep.

I'm caught in a vortex of sound psychedelic.

I've searched for the bottom but gotten myself lost,

I've been blown away like a spec of mere dust.

As in dark caves, your echoes sustain,

The words you say strike chords innate,

And your musical waves, within me resonate.

A puff, a whiff, a moment's high,

Without which an addict may die,

Your lines and lyrics have thus conquered my mind.

Walking down many a road

Your words do drown out my waking world,

Holding me down, you're too good to let go.

[@piyush: i ban you from commenting on this...]