a blindman's light

If i walk through corpses
and smile would i be mean?
If i pave my way through broken bones
without a single tear in my eye would i be cold and heartless?

You may shun me for laughing aloud
at thousand inhuminations
You may gag me to shut out
the truth's various manifestations

My hands will bleed with every word
but i'll keep writing
Because I pass on my soul
with each living locution

For i write my own truth
Veracity as i see it
And it may seem like i'm wrong
like it's not untrue that i'm a misfit

But i laugh at them-the cynics who call me cynics
as they know not the hapiness
of the departing soul
They know not of their freedom from pain

They cry at the celebrations of death
and make it a funny fad of sorrow
but they don't realise the soul is free
and will see a brighter tommorrow