Why is it,
that men unearth their souls?
Uncovering old forgotten holes,
searching for answers to certain things,
that should be left alone,
to rot in the darkened deep.

We always long for knowledge,
truth, forgiveness.
We want to see something
only our eyes have seen.
No matter how light or dark
the sacred surprise may be,
we still want to see.

For years I went to the same bar
every night,
to watch myself die
in a mirror across the room,
shrouded by a halo of neon light.

And I knew that I had come there to die!
How I chased death!
With every drunken,
black hearted breath!

And the other men who were there,
they also came to die!
Night after night, right by my side.
They never said, but I saw it in their stare.
They were waiting for death,
thats why they were there.

Lets not forget our angles,
our death girls.
They came to walk the edge
in a leather swirl.
Drunken, crazed,
wild and feathery fine.
They loved to dance divine,
on the sacred line
between death and life.

As it is with everything,
in time,
even these insanities
seem to recede.

We look back and see ourselves,
stumbling towards the end.
Blaming society for all our sins,
when our own lack of humanity
caused the fall to begin.

Only then do we see,
that we found our truth.
We found knowledge.
We saw what no other man
had ever seen.
We found forgiveness,
and life without
what might have been.

Afterward,
I can look back on what has occurred
and find my strength,
my truth in sacred words.