Odd Night of Writing

Blog from when I was using LiveJournal.

Well, last night was a bit odd. I was in a poetic writing mood, but the poem didn't make much sense. It was basically just rambling. Here's what I wrote.

08/03/05 (04:44)
Time has come to look around
A clock says it's time to lay down
Lay down to rest?
In what way will I find myself
When the morning sun arises
Will I sleep so deeply I go on dreaming?
Or will I rise to spew the sickness from my lungs?
It's almost sad to think
But I'm glad for you, I'm sad
What happened to the logic?
What happened to the love?
Now it's every-one-another
I'd like to think I'm not alone
But this sense that I am making
Is confusing all the same
Running little circles
Like a wire in a frame
We all have our errands
We all have our dreams
We sing our own prayer songs
We damn our own beliefs
When I wake to find I'm dreaming
I try my best to sleep
Do what I can (to) remember
Create my own life story
For persons in my head
It's almost sad to think
I'm glad for you, I'm sad
But not in (the) sanest mindset
I'm coming here to rest
To where have you been running?
To what beat you strum your tune?
Have you found me to be rambling?
Do you think I'm rather crude?
Writing of a sickness
Dreaming of a cure
Painting broken hearts
And loving truly yours
It's almost sad to think
I'm glad for you, I'm sad
A time has come for waking
Finding dreams with credits all around
At the very basic story
A bloody field was found
Squeaking fan and burning daylight
Must rise for sleep to mourn
Raise a hand to wave goodbye
Wave fare well to "Cellar Door"
The end will wave goodbye
Happy sad the ending war
Cry for we... Cry for me...

I watched Donnie Darko last night, so blame that for this oddity. I wrote it to the tune of the song Mad World at the end of the movie. Since I kept trying to avoid following the same pattern as the song, I often lose all sense of any kind of rhyme, but oh well.
Gotta go now, see you at Warped Tour and Swing Dancing
"Your Face Here" upon my heart with love
Matthew (Mahi) Eskuchen