Lost in Endless Night...

days run together like buoyant blobs of watercolor...
penniless, jobless, stuck steady to my slapdash bed
staring blankly into the tv
watching make-believe lives that seem so much more appealing than mine
wondering when the violent waves of catastrophe
will wash down upon us all
It's not that i wanna die,
(maybe part of me does).
It's that, as selfish as it seems,
even to me.
i didn't ask to be here.
There, i said it.
I'm the asshole.
I'm the son of a bitch that can't accept the beauty of his existence.
I've been called worse things.
It doesn't matter
and i don't know if anything does
right now.
The thing is,
I'm stuck in this southern hell,
this redneck oasis in the middle of nowhere,
where the meek breed ugly babies,
and violent beasts roam the vast wasteland of strip-malls,
looking for bargin discounts on versatile solutions for modern trailer park living...
 weed-whackers, gun-racks
 mechanical singing fish to mount on the wall
 welcome matts for the front door
although not everyone is welcome,
especially 'the blacks'
and 'faggots'
and intellectual know-it-alls that read 'books'.
This is where i am trapped.
This is my purgatory,
my private prison,
the bane of my apathy,
and the penalty for all my past trangressions.
I can feel the world breathing
within the darkness and death of endless night.
I sense life seething out there, somewhere.
In the vastness of metropolitan skylines,
the city whispers to me,
'Nathan, we're waiting.  Waiting for you.  Waiting for your voice to echo throughout the iron jungle."
I can feel the loneliness of empty souls
all waiting for that one voice to sing to them,
to tell them what's going on,
to say the things they can't
loud and resonant.
All those lost sheep leading desolate lives
waiting for that special someone
to reach into their souls and turn on their passion,
to remind them what it feels like to be alive.
You wanna know something?
I am the chosen one.
I am that special someone,
the sleeper cell
waiting within the pinetree kingdom...
Waiting for that day to lash out at the world,
to get up on stage
under the lights
in front of the camera
and speak,
say something that the whole world will listen to.
I am the one.
I just wonder
if the wretched rulers of this world,
the ones wielding the power with iron fists of greedy green,
will destroy this race
before i have my chance,
before i find my way
out of this southern hell,
and into the minds and hearts
of those listening.