Become dead like me.
Let them take away your abilities.
To feel
hear
and see.
Become living dead like me.
They'll chase you down
they'll want to see your last emotions drown
in that sea of endless green.
Green like envy, you see.
Because the dead envy the living.
They want what you have, what you enjoy.
Because they had and lost those abilities.
Hearing, feeling, seeing.
If you become living dead like me.
You might just fool them. and still have those abilities.
Or you'll feel their endless hate, pain and misery.
And then you'll wish you were dead, just like me.
Let your feelings fall away.
Cast them into the void, and walk that line
between alive and dead.
It's not so bad, at least not for me.
I cross over to either side quite freely.
Am I alive?
Am I dead?
It turns out both are just constructs within my head.
It doesn't really matter what you call me.
Because I don't even know what to be.
The living dead screams.
The living screams.
The dead screams.
They all belong to me.


OK! This took me about 5 minutes. I ran across a scrap of paper with the first few lines of this, and decided to just run with it, and see where it took me. I like where this went, I hope you do too, man.

For  venaul