Diminutive

Now thats nothing new
feeling of being
humbled
in one's own view.
What you can't see
you cant show
what we know
they can't take

Its very small,
the distance
between victory
and disgrace
to resuscitate
and call off the vision before
feeling humbled
and nothing more..

From where I stand
you'll see a point
of no return,
between hell
and redemption
no sky pressing
down to own me
yet I stand
testimony of that
my state
I look down
upon myself and
can't find the traces
of my feet..

From where they look
I'd be a blot
about round, dead
in center,
one big spot
A blot on the insignia
blocking the view

Again, nothing new
The same old inconsequentaility of
this being true, an afterthought
and equally so,
of being asked to refrain
there is no calmness when
you know
no matter what you do
It'll never be the same again

Oh sinnerman!
where you gonna run to?
where do you think
it would run that deep?
I ran to the lake
it was bleeding
I ran to the sun
it was boiling
I ran to the sky
it was falling down
I ran to the dream
and you came true
I was pursued by
truth at last
and all that I never had
came back in view..

Now consider
the response
of gravity to tears
consider the homage
we pay to our fears
Look within to the
gray we hide

Shuffle the colors
and no one
would ever know,
take what you can now
and of what remains
send the pain below..