Another song-fic~ Yay!
This is Believe by Hollywood Undead~! Can anyone guess who the 5 loves are?
-RMS
I have always been feared. I never understand why, and yet, I do. Yes, my past is painted, dripping the color red. It is full of sorrows and suffering, of death and decay. Yes, my leaders turned from being the Great to the Terrible. Yes, my country is a frozen wasteland, where, in some places, the sun never sets. In others, the sun never rises.
Yes, all of that is true. That my person is tainted and twisted and the ones I kept close have the scars to prove it. My old family is terrified of my very presence, my sisters either frightened or obsessed with my power; my strength. My first love cries when I come near, my second trembles and shakes, my third curses the ground I walk upon, the fourth sweats with fear, and the fifth...
And my fifth love will never forgive me.
I can't believe... that when I breathe...
That there's something good inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
So close to me... that memory...
Of that one good thing inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
Yeah...
I wonder if I were to leave, would anyone care? If I were to disappear? I know my one friend has this thought often, as well. He does not my past, but he has an equally tiring existence. We are both more than we seem, and yet the others cannot stop to see that. They never will, either. All of them are much too impatient for such.
Still, to just leave? Would it help? I cannot get too excited, where would I go? Maybe my one friend would let me join him in solitude; that way we both are not lonely... but, that would not work either. I could never leave my people. Even if I have no place to go or to stay, I must keep put; they should not have to deal with the consequences of my selfish actions.
So many fearful questions and distasteful answers. I know I can never stay in one place, there will forever be those whom wish me gone and dead. So, for my people, just for my people, I shall keep running. I shall keep hiding from harm. Even though I know I will welcome them with open arms and an unguarded chest, I will stay healthy. If I stay healthy, they will be happy. At least I could make someone happy.
How could the others not know? Well, I suppose then one would ask, "How could they?" I have never spoken of my feelings or thoughts. But... they've never asked. I don't know what it would do if I were to prove them otherwise, but I can only wish to show them that my heart is not as cold as my country.
If I went out the back door, nobody would stop me... but, where would I go?
'Cause I ain't ever had a real home, so what do I know?
So, I could keep runnin', hide until they find me... But, what would that do?
If they could only know what I knew, what would it prove?
Maybe I should have taken their warnings to heart. Maybe I should have taken them all just a bit more serious. Maybe I should have just stayed to myself and not have meddled in their affairs... then again, there are a lot of maybes... far too many to keep count. Perhaps I should try to surround myself more? If I get more familiar and comfortable around people, maybe then I'll be more likable...?
There goes more maybes...
Still, even with all these maybes, I could have looked back before acting. I could have seen the repetition in my actions; that I was merely repeating history.
And that is something you never do.
I shoulda' seen the writin' on the wall... Instead, I'm left to fall.
'Cause the longer I'm away, the more I stay the same.
Lookin' back, when I thought I knew it all... Instead, I'm left to fall...
Did I throw it all away?
I can't believe... that when I breathe...
That there's something good inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
So close to me... that memory...
Of that one good thing inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
Yeah...
I should have listened to him. To General Winter. Indeed, he is my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. He has already made my land nothing more than a snow filled waste land, so why bother is other's affairs? Every country, every person, every animal has it's own life. Every book, computer, instrument, home is infinity. And every line, every word, every note, every smile and frown is a lifespan.
After everything I've done, this has to be the last time. The last 'slap-on-the-wrist'. My last chance to change everything. It is utterly hopeless and completely impossible; I could never trust another to catch me when I let go of reality with both my hands. Never could, never will; for I will fall through the sky while the clouds beat me every time I happen upon one. The clouds will not be soft, nor will their blows. Their punches shall hurt as if I am hurtling towards the ground again and again; until I finally make it and impact through that stone, the loud boom signaling my final heart beat.
And that last beat will vibrate up from my skin and into my bones as I dream of nothingness and of waking up with no memory.
Don't you know, little boy, they'll lay you to waste, man? Little do they know, every song is a lifespan.
Haven't taken one, but I'm takin' my last chance; to hold all we know and let go with both hands.
Oh, don't you know that clouds are made from concrete? Right through the stone, can you hear my heart beat?
Beats through my bones, like the memory left me; not for a second or a minute when I dream.
But yet, still I am here. I only wish to have a place to call my own, without the threat of someone at my door. Perhaps I should already dig a grave and sleep in it, maybe that'd appease everyone's wishes. Then again, they are bloodthirsty. Maybe I should dig 66 feet instead of just 6...
No. I should not think these thoughts. I am the biggest country in the world! I am the Mother land! Immortal! I can not and will not be taken down so easily by mere children! (If I continue with these thoughts, maybe, so many maybes, I can keep away the misery. I can keep away the alcohol I already down so readily.
Sometimes, when I venture out into the cold, desolate tundra, I see my reflection in the ice at my feet. I see my tall stature and the marks time has left behind; hoping to weave fatigue into my too old body. I see the lines in the sagging of my shoulders, the dragging of my feet, the weariness in my eyes, the panic in my smile. They are white, the color of my eyes. Yes, my irises keep their purple tint, but it is only coloring that keep it like that. The ghosts that haunt me shine beyond such.
Then I would look down at my chest, and place my hand upon my once upon a time heart. My heart has been taken from me, and even my body is as cold as my home. No heart in a chest to keep blood pumping. I would remember the day that had happened, when it was taken from me. Then I would shake my head, look back into my eyes and wish to be able to say goodbye.
I know that wish will forever be out of reach, for how could one say goodbye when there's no one around?
I wanna go home, like a home that I keep. You can dig six or sixty-six feet.
We can live forever, still your misery missed me; hold this song together with a bottle of whiskey.
Look into the mirror at the lines that time drew, seen 'em painted white in the eyes that shine through.
My heart beats heavy in an open chest and, I wanna say goodbye, but there's nobody left.
I should give up now while I have the chance at the end of my life ending by my hand and not by my enemy's. I am one of the many few who as gotten this opportunity; the opening to have a moment where I can make my own decision.
That is all I've ever wanted.
I can't believe... that when I breathe...
That there's something good inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
So close to me... that memory...
Of that one good thing inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
Yeah...
Yet... maybe my friend will come with me? So many maybes. He is also lonely, perhaps he would enjoy taking my hand and keep some of this emptiness for himself? Perhaps, since I have broken much and failed every test I have taken, as has he, perhaps he would join me? Would he stay? Would he grow worried of the heartless chest I possess? Would he mind if I were to seek touch and comfort from him? Is he so truly like me to get what my actions mean? Would he understand? Does he understand?
I do not know much any more. Should I? Should I know? If am to know, should I? How much should I know? How could I? How can I? So many questions, how could I ever keep up?! I dream questions nowadays, for it seems questions and no answers are the only things my mind can comprehend. In that, I can no longer sleep... my mind can never keep a straight line, it is much too cluttered. I wish it swiped clean. Why must I suffer and suffer alone? Am I really so unwanted?
Is it these scars? These many scars that I have painted as random lines over my neck, chest, and back? Even after they bled and healed, they still burn with pain.
I broke it all, and I'm put to the test. Put your hand to mine, and feel this emptiness.
There's no beat in my chest, 'cause there's nothing left. No, it ain't goodbye, it's a last caress.
What's another dream? You can hardly sleep; can you believe bad things only happen to me?
God knows one day, you will finally see that scars will heal, but were meant to bleed.
Maybe (so many maybes) I should've expressed my love and gratitude? That I should have told the ones I love, the ones I care about, that I would lie for them? That I would against my own government for them? That would die for them, if they wanted me to? I would have, and still would have given them my very last breath. I would breath the life they so desperately crave and die in their place. Even though I know I would be scared, terrified, I would still do so if it meant that they would know it was me that saved them.
I know I am a monster, there is no changing that carved fact. It is embedded into my mind and into the minds of those I have met. Yet, still, I do not think myself as a bad person. But, I suppose, I lost my many chances to show others that. I messed everything up from the day I opened my eyes on this new planet, to now when the Earth will soon die and us along with it. I broke treaties and promises, and even though I could suffocate from the shame that brings me, I will never pretend otherwise.
In the very end, where the past and the future do not matter, still things need to be solved. And... I don't think they can ever be solved if I am still living.
Do you realize I would lie for you? Please have my last breath, I would die for you!
I know I'm no good, but my heart beats true; you know I'm gonna fight, though I might be scared to lose!
You took me in, and I fucked it up again and an empty promise, no, I won't pretend.
'Cause in the end, we need someone to solve 'em; nobody can fix me if I'm part of the problem.
So, I shall leave and wander the depths of my land with this one thought: I can not die. I can never die. But that does not mean I have to stop trying.
I can't believe... that when I breathe...
That there's something good inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
So close to me... that memory...
Of that one good thing inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.
Yeah...