An infidel's prayer 

I am falling up in an emptiness full of dark light 
Trying to find a voice of reason in all this spite 
To comfort my distresed soul of a poet who was raised by a cinema 
But it was life where i've seen a scene so obscene it made me cynical
Nothing new under the sun just the same stereotypical hollow spiral of whining
A sense of deep disgust over my own shallow and idle writing
Which echos what feels like eons of senseless selfloathing - an infidel's prayer 
I am an underachiever a low stakes player
And even though it breaks my own miserable heart
I know myself to be a person who would rather go home than to go hard 
Scared to live a life worth writing about 
Paralized by doubt trying to find a way out
Of things i know i should be eager to get in
Love taught me how to take it on the chin 
But i took it too far and now not losing feels like a win  
I am so scared of failure that i won't even start anything 
I am terefied that by the time i learn how to live it will be already too late
Life stolen by a foolish idea of having a clean slate 
I am tired from the unbreakable chain of so many questions and answers which often feel so same 
Because  i try to answer every question but i question every answer 
The uncertainity grows inside me like a cancer 
Slowly paralizing every vital system of my brain 
Leaveing deep rooted stain of fucking glourious yet completly unnecesary pain
Which pushed my personality little  further away from sane 
Not completly over the line of insanity but right in sight of the edge 
Of this chaoticly unpredectible sketch 
Of the nightmerish web of what is supposed to be my consciousness 
Where right know as i am writing out of nowhere emerges 
The realization that the wisdome of  Hunter S. Thompson goes that the ticket should be bought and the ride taken 
Even though sometimes it mitght get twisted
But you know how it is - no rest for the wicked 
And nobody knows what lies lie ahead 
What horizons shall fall upon my head 
Dark is my water and green is my bread
And you wonder how am i still sad
While i hope that you know when i said that "I am a starving artist but i feel no hunger"
I meant that  it is my soul that is underfed - yet full of anger 
And this fast paced stillnes commonly refered to as anxiety 
Which turns every insignificant little thing into a full blown tragedy
At first you take it as a quite innocent basicly harmless feeling 
But if left unchecked for long enough it becomes a villain
And what does a villain usually do?
He seeks power he wants to rule 
And where will such an invisible villain build his by nature untouchable throne?
Inside your mind which is supposed to be yours and yours alone
A person can  kick me to death but cannot force my thought  
But what if it's my thought who does the kicking
I brought this up as a joke but let the record  show that i am not smiling 
I take the jokes seriously so i can joke about serious stuff 
Make of that statment what you may perhaps it's just a bluff
Or perhaps Colonel Jessup was right and you can't handle the truth
The truth that if you look at the world you can only laugh or cry
And no mattter what you do

You still gonna die