Cha

In the dim lit mines of Cha, I dream of light I'm tell'n ya. I want a woman, I want a friend, I want some light, and my day to end.

So much hatred, and some from me. No where to turn no help from thee. Arms for Allah, no arms from Pa. Arms from Buddha, though momma shoulda.

Women are evil, all women are bad. I just wish I had one, I just wish I had. Or buddy to bump shoulders and play some football. But then in the dim, why would y'all.

Yes down in the dim lit mines of Cha. My mind plays tricks I can't get far. I found my preciousss, she tricks me bad. Made me believe in a life I never had. Hobbits are trixie's and she was too. My ring won't turn me invisible, what do I do?

The pits of Cha are vast and steamy. But with my dreams gone I'm no more dreamy. It hurts us precioussss I say to you. It tricks us preciousss no Xanadu. I feel sticky. I feel like glue. I feel like something stuck to your shoe.

Pain in pity take time on me. Thou pain and pity are all I see. well that's not true, I do see you. But pity's not a thing you give, do you? Oh, Cha goes deeper far and it's dim lit no matter where you are.

Take me for a day trip in the light. Just for a day I'll go back to Cha without a fight. In time I'll behave, I'll stand up straight. You'll see, you won't even have to lock the gate.

The Hobbits are trixie's and so are all of you. Me and preciousss know, we watch what you do. Time in the sun for friends and fun, nah. Not for me, deep in the dim lit mines of Cha...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of late I feel my mind locked in a Civil War. The weapons of choice are the every day sensory inputs. The hot, the cold. The evil in people's words and hatred in their souls. I tend to be a little hypersensitive. Even more so now. Much like the writings I'm torn between going deeper, and yet wanting to be out.

I've done a spoken ver of this here: Cha