Wolfgang

Heavy inflow of information.
Yet no way of outlet.
It was a great night.
A great night that meant much more than that.
As the lift goes up, take a swallow and pop.
As the lift door opens, a separated dimension unleashed.
The lights shot through the darkness in flickers.
Red, green, blue, an array of colour.
It bounces off every single corner in the space.
Litted face, but they were blurred from the inner cocktails.
As I walked through the lines of light, I felt free.
I haven't felt it for a long time.

Wait a minute, why am I reminded of writing in the rawest form?
Yes, you reminded me of that.
Maybe tonight is going to be a heavy night.
It seems to be like this when the exams are nearing.
What do I see behind these eyes?
It's like a river of burning lava.
People are being thrown into the lava.
Yet all I could do is watch them burn.
And all I could feel is helpless.
It's green now.
Because green represents toxins.
It creeps through the cracks of the wall.
Breaking things apart.
I've built this wall up.
I must say I've done quite a good job building this wall up.
Because words were spoken.
People have told me that things have been different.
And yes I feel that things are slowly changing.
But yet these green liquids.
They break the foundation of all that I'm trying to build up.
Maybe the problem has always been there.
But it is my responsibility to fix it somehow isn't it?
But how do I fix something that is in so deep.
Just looking into the future, I see things crumbling and falling apart.

Oh how I wish people were more observant about feelings.
Everyone has some sort of unexplained pain linked to this wall.
I can tell.
People being left out.
I could tell so much.
Everyone's eyes seem to speak a story.
Yet there isn't one universal solution to fix this crippling toxin.
And I just sit.
Sit and watch it crumble and fall in the lava.
I hate this so much.
I can hear all of you again.
Words are resounding.
Echos are forming again.
Am I not doing a good job.
And you too, you make people feel like it's a sinful act to be emotional.
And that we have only ourselves to blame for being like this.

Just so much has happened yet nothing had happened.
It's like a balloon that's going to pop.
We're just waiting for the pressure to surpass the limit.
And when it does pop, there goes.
We'll have to start with the rumbles.
And I am honestly tired to pick them all up again.