Not Driven By Fear Or Hope,
But By Despair,
Driven By Despair When I’m Alone, Tryin’ Not To Mope,
And I’m Often Alone.
In A Crowded Room,
Walking The Streets In The Mornin’ Boom,
At A Party Full Of Company In A Social Tone,
I’m Alone.
In My Despair Thrives A Scream,
Escapin’ From A Buried Coffin,
It Floods Out In A Rapid, Angry Stream,
Angry, Dyin’, My Despairin’ Scream.
Despair Is What Writes These Words,
That Inhumane Scream Which Shakes This,
Those Innocent Tears, Reminiscent Of Gourds,
Moisturizin’ The Emotional Paint,
Makin’ All Other Senses Faint,
These Hands Tremble Not With Fear Or Care,
But Instead With Despair,
Drivin’ Me When I’m Alone.
Ethan Sanders