Precious these days
The audience quieted by responses
That don't quite fit their existence
Pain of forgiveness without rightfully knowing
The reason why
It doesn't mean so much
When fingers are crossed behind your back
So you can reserve your despair
Because it's the only thing you know how to respond to

Without the darkness
There is no light at the end
Or the beginning for that matter
Comparisons and faces with shocked expressions
When statements become twisted
In their Chinese phone call game

She asked me if I remembered the lighter days
Yeah, but I can't put them in the correct order
They have been lost in time
Warped by a medicated bliss
Ensured of their return
But eying it with suspicion
My job is to be on the lookout for the enemy

This theatre cannot afford security
Just an individual with an old rusted shield of thick skin
Hand drumming the vibrations and sounds
That make sense at the time
The only ones that bring any radiance
I forgot you were there watching me writhe
And listening to these frightening bits of prose
That have escaped the confines of their prison

I broke the volume control last night
Now it does go to 11