The world is too much to handle for a man who's in a constant battle,
Carrying a double-edged sword
Of kindness and sensitivity,
He never backs down on his words
But this, in turn, is used against him to arouse a nascent gullibility.

He's very zen,
Constructing his own idea of heaven
But whenever he lets people in
All they want is see themselves win -
Oblivious to his suffering,
They'll open their floodgates without closing
And he'll be left carrying their belongings.
What's it really like to be used?
Ask him so he can tell about his blues:
Detesting the culture of superficiality,
Loud noises, loud mouths, loud indentities,
Is there an escape from all of this frivolity?
What he yearns for is a sound mind and liberty.

That was the day he fell silent
Not a single word spoken,
Burning all stone bridges,
Closing heavy stage curtains,
Retreating to a safe place where no one has the access,
Living peacefully, not worrying about the worldly excess.
Thus, the day he fell silent,
Carrying Neptune's trident,
Striking the stone, it bursts forth with water
Around himself, so they couldn't get any closer;
Wielding the Cane of Byrna,
Surrounding himself with a beam of light
So no one can indulge in his moments of plight.

The world is too much to handle for a man who's in a constant battle, indeed
But we are free to choose what we see and unburden ourselves of the unnecessary,
And find that silence is a luxury rarely enjoyed in this age of chaotic society.

----------------------------------------------------

Room Half Empty

Fear of the Cross
Mama, Papa is wounded!
The day he fell silent
Letters from Theo
There's something about the dark - I feel safe
Dawn, don't forget me...
Our room has two doors
Blue World

© ajyoyama