Perseus
Everything slows down, I see you walking down the center lane.
All eyes on you, but I know you can't handle this.
The wooden floor is cold on your bare feet,
As it turns into broken glass, and shards of what we used to be.
"But this is okay and I'm alright," you tell yourself,
As you put your hand on the doorknob to my bedroom.
I want to stop you, but I can't move you.
I turned you into stone.
Where's Perseus when you need him?
He didn't show through this time.
And the gunshots outside are getting louder.
They keep the rhythm of my footsteps,
And my blood-filled, and your marble heart.
This is what I've done to you,
But the Zodiac said it wouldn't end like this.
I wish an Aquarius was more dependable or easy to break,
Because I've got no water to crack,
The porcelain of your painted skin.
Will you let your eyes be seen?
They were so blue, now they're grey and grey and grey.
So I cough and cough, 'til I wake back up.
A nightmare, and it's three o'clock.
But you aren't around.
I had a dream, with you in it, a night or two ago.
You were so serene and calm and brilliant,
Like you've always been.
Why have I lost you?
The stone falls in an empty canyon,
A void that was once my heart, as it shatters and falls,
To the ground - Back to the beginning when the fall started.
Can I stop it? You were here to break it.
To catch my fall, but the drop is too far down,
Where are you, Perseus?
Canons shoot and houses collapse,
In the mess of all this war.
I thought that we were innocent.
Hell, I know you were.
These sheets are black, they're all I've seen for a while, now.
But can we go back in time, because I think they were pure,
With white, or blue from your eyes.
Too many tears rubbed off, I guess that's how it got here.
It's what I'm believing.
I'm believing that I can lose myself in you.
Can I get lost in your eyes?
See the sky? It's so alone.
So am I, and I didn't know if I should call you.
I know if I open my mouth,
Nothing but a scream would escape my nervous lips.
I'm not ready, yet.
I cannot see, anymore.
The flowers of Spring will haunt me,
As they spread and spread across the garden and yards,
We thought were infertile.
But how do we know they're not synthetic?
And there are thousands of books on my bookcase,
With too many words that they have in them, like I do.
And these books, all of them were written for you.
On the end, there's a photo album and a roll of film -
All with pictures of you with me, too many memories.
So you say, "I remember when our house collapsed,
And we let our garden burn."
This was all that survived, this and an empty frame,
That I'll use for you, atleast a stone picture of you.
Where are you, Perseus?
The newspaper said that today, there would be thunderstorms,
And I accept all of their headlines.
Socrates said he was mislead.
Punish him, but first ask him where Perseus is,
Because I've lost him, and none of my philosophies are valid.
And I can't cross Styx to find him.
Where are you, Perseus?
I don't see you in the mirror, behind me anymore.
You're lost, or am I?
Where are you, Perseus?
