or
The Scapegoat Mannequin,
a poem by Joshua Nicolaas
Dear savior what's a man
to do
How can I begin again
When 1 and 1 are never 2
when every path is without end
when nothing's equal anywhere
when wills are broken dividends
with paper hands to cut the fair skinned
profits on the lives we spend
-And who am I to take
the reins up
Who am I to kill the game
-When every breath demands a sentence
Who am I to take the blame
Cut the toothless tasteless
mouth
The lies pour out
Paint the sky, but flood
the ground,
All streams screaming through my ears,
only questions the way I breathe
what I believe
Tells me what to fear
and the walls fall silent still around me...
the voiceless echo all I hear...
My god was I to play the
fool
to sever strings and stand alone
to find that I'd escaped the cross
to lean against the cornerstone
So scry the answer on a whisper
take the wounded under wing
under thumb and undertow
while breathless mouths your glory sing
And who are you to rape
the willing,
When three and zero turn to one
to turn me in to turn me over
turn me out to 9 and none
Cut the toothless tasteless
mouth
The lies pour out
Paint the sky, but flood
the ground,
voiceless screaming all I hear,
questions why they breath my air
why they don't care
falling on deaf ears
And all my demons cower in the shadows....
There's nothing left for
me but...
fear.
