Time Travel

Though on my

The past is gone
I can't live in the present
Just visions of the future
The handy craft of a dead man

A two faced contortionist
Authority of charades
Drowned in his blood
That still pumps thru me

Stuffed into a box
Buried by age
Surfacing my rage
This cage you built

Performing my role
Not keeping score
Just let me go
My soul is too sore