Maestro,
hear me,
i’ve yearned years for this;
to climb your
Watchtower of Lies
I know you, i hunt you,
i climb the stairwell,
and each window i pass
stares at my life
(a fool in time past)
It pleasures you
at the way i tricked myself
I hate the way i changed myself
I’d tear out my eyes
to blame shame and stupidity
for you’re a film in my mind
and you’ll pay for the way
the ghosts of your heart
caused you to laugh
at the way i writhed…