The Man stares at a wall

The man stares at a wall in fear of everything around him. He fears what he will find if his curiosity bears down and breaks his will. But what is the wall? Is it nothing? The man finds himself alone against a wall with nothing but everything in his way. Choices and choices and nothing remains except him stacked against everything, a result of all the choices he had made. Is it the end of his ways?

He looks up and does Nothing

He looks up and does nothing, with awe he can only stare. He fears his own action so he gazes not at what he sees but beyond into what he thinks he believes. Close-minded and blinded by his own convictions he thinks he is right when in fact he is nothing. His beliefs cloud his judgment, his actions bring out nothing, and only his words may they help another realize what he lacks in substance. Maybe someday he'll look back and he should look back and realize how fucked up this game that he called life was. But right now he sits and thinks that him doing nothing is his calling, his mission, his pathway to whatever heaven.

He cries in his sleep

He cries in his sleep, only a shadow of his daily self. With all the masks that weigh him down, no sleep will truly give him the rest he deserves. His toil and trouble to hide his true person is shackled with weights. Did he think that their absent minds would not tear at his own heart? If only to protect all from what he is, he will step aside and let things be. And in this act, will their hearts also burst in tears?

He looks down at his hands

He looks down at his hands, this way nothing will stop him. So no one will see his rebellious eyes he looks down at his burning hands so that no angry other will burn hatred into him, so that the first time he looks up he will be untainted by his fellows and be able to spread his own self for all the world to see. So no one will crush him when he is down, so no one will cage him from what he is, he will act like him and her and all the other rests of them. He will cage himself with lock and key so that he can be strong for others when they are weak.

He tears at his own hands

He tears at his own hands, desperately trying to free himself from the lightning that had seized him, it's burning slash shocking his being down to his soul. He tears at his own hands to let himself go, to be free of the heat that burns his core. He feels for something, something to take hold of him so he can let go of all he has done wrong. Because he is weak and he knows before everyone else when he will fail. But he does it anyway for that something called belief that was forsaken so long ago as scapegoats blinded the soul and cut deeper than any blade could ever penetrate.