Life on the Second Hand

Thriving on a constant force to keep me happy
Depending entirely on the next to make me comfortable
Shifting uncomfortably in foreign environments
And contemplating the next move so my knees don't buckle

From this mood to the next, I stride
But I make my goal to be consistent
This is no better than conjuring stale watches
Who's tick never surprise the next

So I travel on the second hand
I'm traveling fast now
But then my mind gets tired
And beyond the hands I go

And so now it's another day
I'm standing on my watch
The hands constantly near missing me
Trying to knock me off balance

I grab one and am taken on a ride
Through life on the second hand
Everything flies by
And so there goes my life

Pyro

Tree rooted in the ground
It's on fire with the light
The sun is dusk
And my hands grab for it

It slips away under the vista
Before I can say, "Fall"
The night is sinister
It surronds me
I lean against the tree

I turn to feel the bark
Rigid and hard
I look up to the leaves
Blowing in the breeze

This tree is sacred
I feel it in my fingertips
I touched them to my face
And static stabbed

I try to tear it down
Find it's origin
Count the rings
Peel off the leaves

The tree is too broad
And I'm too weak
I break my bones
And the branches remain

Far off I hear a call
"Come off it" They say
But before I acknowledge it
I kick the tree

It comes tumbling down on me
From my ignorance
From my selfishness
From my own effort

I thought I could know it
Inside and out
But it remained idle
For I had tried with my own hands

They're wretched
They're filth
I bury my face in them
For it bears as much shame

Then a leaf carressed me
And a branch separated them
I was entangled in the limbs
And the leaves masked my shameful skin

The tree had come to me
And I accepted it
But not by myself
No, it brought me out