I live in a place where the trees no longer speak,
Where the giver of life lays down her weary head to rest.
The mountains are scared to show the beautiful peaks
For all will be torn away if she shows her beauty so true.
Now I walk alone down this tortured and forgotten road.
People push me to the left then yell, “Go to the right!”
Come all ye lonely people, come and shed on me some light.
Some light, for I truly cannot see what you desire of me.
To look like you — to walk like you — to speak lies as you do
To laugh like you — to smile like you — to hide my tears so true.
To live like you — to care like you — only about myself.
To die like you — it won’t come true — I’ve died and been to hell.
I like in a place where the people are no longer living free,
Where the Government has the giver of life in chains
And Religion now takes the place of the human will with a demon’s face.
Yes it’s all been torn away, and we the weak become the prey.
Soulless people will all walk behind the demon in their dreams,
Their dreams of Riches and Fame in the Land of the Dancing Dead,
Dancing underneath a heaven they say for which my wretched soul should pray.
But this dance has already bled most of the life out of me.
To feel like you — to heal like you — only for my own gain.
To see like you — one-sided truth — resting in morbid pain.
To hide like you — from myself — only I know who I hate.
To pray like you — on bended knees — I’m cold and it’s much too late —
Too much — myself.
D. A. Joy – May 21, 1994
The Poetry of D. A. Joy 