I, The Shortfall Nothing defines victory quite like defeat, and rarely before have I felt so defeated.

A Lighthouse This is an analogy I suppose. I'm not sure who the "You" is. As likely as not he's as much me as the Me is. But I suppose every two eyes that ever read this will have their own storm and their own lighthouse, so it is truly up to you. Your winds wear at my whitewashed walls Your sands ever land where your spitting rain falls Your lightning jumps from my roof to the sky Your clouds ever darken your days to your nights My scoured surface stands to surmount your every stirring My door ever shored and the wind gauge ever whirring My beacon pierces the so-called impenetrable dark My lighthouse bears your onslaught, ever shining, ever stark.

Phenix City- A Glimpse These are just a couple of verses from this extensive mass of a narrative song I wrote quite some time ago now. It has grown quite large as time has passed and thoughts have changed and people have moved on and such. And though it is just the predictable, perhaps discountable work of a boy learning what he is capable of feeling, I must say that it is indeed about a girl. Phenix City- Two verses Oh, how you wanted my everything And oh, how I wished I could have given it all When we realized what feeling was among us Oh, how I wish I could forget the smile I saw Because even now I cough up dead butterflies The ones you caused in me long ago And even now I'm haunted in dreams By the side of you I never wanted to know Because yes, I gave you all of the heart that I had And yes it went with you when you moved away I'm still waiting for it to find its way back Still trying to get a grip in the day to day Because yes I let you change me for the worse qualities I had And yes you left all confidence dead where it lay I still fight self hatred for all you brought me to believe I lack Never did I believe I would so let myself be torn away

Moving On Well, I just belted out a depressing little group of words. Let's see if we can move up from here. This little thingy is just... Well, about #life again. I'm ever so confused over everything. I constantly try to validate my existence, and I see so many others always doing the same. I suppose this is an answer to that. A Boy, His Years So many people think That to truly feel That to be worthwhile You must suffer You must offer blood or tears or even your #life And it's sick, it's a sick world that twists us so For though I have lived A #life uneventful And though my name Bears no repeating I was born old A boy ever hopeful With a heart Ever passionately beating.

Of Apathy I haven't even gotten on Opuss in a shamefully long time. The truth is I've been completely dry of inspiration. I've been floating along, so to speak, letting #life carry my thoughts where it will without voicing either encouragement or protest. And it's been horrifically depressing, so here I am to change it. I have no idea what I'm about to write, but, I hope it overcomes all of this apathy. Here goes. Four Grey Walls This #life Exhilaration Where have I let it go? The longest nights And the hardest contemplation Are all I have to show For a winter and an autumn Spent tumbling through a foggy mind I swim in seething self-damnation My purpose now cast far from the light I know it seems pathetic I never claimed to be a strong man And try though I did It seems I've done all I can I never claimed to be a survivor I never claimed to be worth a second glance I never saw anything to admire In a proud family's lost first chance I used to think there was A better side to me I used to believe I could inspire more than apathy I used to hope I used to dream, I used to live in my mind happily Now self undone I stand Naught but these four quiet grey walls My only company.