Bullfighter, The Forgotten, The Catalyst

Bullfighter

Look at me in the eye,
I will slay you
turn you into human flesh
and much to my dismay
you will come back charging
while my eyes are blood-shot red
like the disdain infiltrated in your lungs
nowhere to hide, impossible to run
they say I drink too fast
well, they drink too slow
as long as I have been resident on Earth
I have never been selfish one day
so let my bloody steel sword
allow me to valiantly retort
time to grab the bull by the horns
like the most gracious Matador
either we make it out alive
or do battle until we are both comatose
like a coward trying to breathe
his way out of a room full of thugs
I don't fear death,
alas, death fears me
because I am beyond everything that stands
and I stand above everything that breathes
life has built me a shrine
to illuminate every last day that I live
even if I never die at your hands
for better or much likely for worse
like so many others before
I am taking you with me.

The Forgotten

I was never there
I never came to be
I am the forgotten
and that's just how it is.

Forgotten...
Like a corpse in a battlefield
I will be buried in a nameless grave
a Kamikaze without a mission
an uneventful day.

Forgotten...
I was left to the vultures
dragged by the winds of solitute
with cobwebs in my soul
a cactus without water.

Forgotten...
I have become a fragment of your
imagination
my lips never had a place to stay
like a dead leaf in Autumn
a footnote.

Forgotten...
Like a patient with Alzheimers
I live in the mind of an anmesiac
Heaven of wasted memories
How did you forgot, to forget,
forgetting me?

Because...
I was always there
and I did came to be
the love of your life
no one loved you like I did.

But I am still the forgotten
and that's just how it is.

The Catalyst

I am the catalyst of this cataclism
the catastrophe that impaled the atmosphere
of this vagabond heart that is shaped like a sphere
and an uncertain future being build out of fear
that gets bypassed product of my cynicism.

Secluded in my lab conocting a potion for this illness
and when all else fails call me the alchemist
nothing more than an angts-ridden antagonist
my apologies to the pessimist, my excuses to the optimist
I was born to be a masochist with a heart made of silver.

Buried in my bunker trapped in someone else's lore
which in turn makes me the catalyst of my own downfall
I was baptized a catholic without ever being asked
turn me into a cyclist and I will pedal real far
turn me into a labyrinth and you won't be able to find
traces of me, of who I was, or who I never came to be.