How do you knock down the man
Who has already beaten himself to the ground
How do you kill the man
Who is nothing more than a shadow of a ghost walking
A fragment of a dream still stalking
Hating the souls he claimed to love
The pasty reflections of a once glorious image
An image stored only in the imagination
Of a devil afraid of his own demons
How do you strike the soul so stricken
With grief and greed and hope forgotten
How do you press the man who is so unimpressed
Yet so hard pressed he is but a flat man
Living in a world too round for him to die
Living in a teardrop, yet afraid to cry
What do you say to the blind to make him see
Or scream to the deaf that he can hear?
How do you terrify the man so afraid
That he invented a world of fear
What does the man alone do
When everyone he loves leaves
When he is left alone to grieve
A love that was never his
A life he never lived
What do you say to the man who is a mountain
But afraid of the mustard seed that would compel him to move
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