To be or not to be?
curse or fight to thee?
Thee ere existence,
thine heir of reality,
the unpayable tax of fee.
the clown asked thee,
how verity ruins me?
how am I chained, yet free.
free to judge my melancholy,
free to love, but not to feel.
free to plant seed, yet cut the tree.
free in my deepest ruins, yet die in it.
free to chant \'Love\', yet suffocate in it.
free to die, but not to fade.
as free as a clown, I am.
death from thousand wounds, a ten.
a sharp blade, a blunt pen.
how can you laugh gentlemen?
in the moments when even wisdom, can’t shadow your scars,
when even trust, can’t hold the bar.
a jester,
a liar,
all lies tie me.
a clown as I am,
smiling
even if I despise me.