P.X. Vexxus

Transparent

The frozen landscape barren

Alone and desolate, he is transparent

Through the decades of decaying time

He has never felt truly alive

 

The winter’s cold, bites and chews

It turns his soul to ice with words untrue

Even though he is calm within a storm of hate

He cannot turn away from his fate

 

In the darkness of his demented mind

He pictures the corpses of mankind

So tired of being turned away

He becomes more distant, to this world of gray

 

In his sleep, he is tormented by dreams of love

Just to wake up to a life of none

Being stabbed by a knife in transparent form

He changes, he breaks, he begins to transform

 

When at last he opens his eyes

Nothing was as desolate as his mind

Surrounded by hundreds who lie and ignore

Fate had found him in the storm

 

Still trapped within his nightmare, he fights

He kills without discretion, with no sight

No one can escape the destruction of his might

For he is a winter storm, white in the night

 

The storm grows larger now, he has been consumed

He is lost to the world now, he is doomed

Many try to save him, but with no avail

They try to kill him, but cannot prevail

 

For he is no longer a person of reason and logic

He is a force of nature, insane and psychotic

For he is anger and sorrow incarnate

Transparent to the world, he became hate