For Whom The Bell Tolls

— Hemingway Somewhere in France 1945 —

The call is what someone hears in their life, it echoes in the back of your head, if you listen quietly enough.

The call is the right to your work and not necessarily the labour that society preaches….

To hear the call and not act would be a cowards way out. Maybe thats why a coward dies a thousand deaths.
Either way to ignore the call a thousand times would be suicide.

And I fight it so hard, drowning myself in distraction.
Distracting myself with vice and cheap forms of entertainment.
And sometimes, there ‘s no amount of vice that can silent that call.

When our in that half sleep, half awake stage, its like sleep paralysis, and that 1000 pound troll be sitting on your chest, with your arms and tongue tied, screaming that call in your face — I hate that place.

She attacks when you’re guards down, like a leopard stalking her pray , she slips in swifty, smooth like a serial killer, catching you when your most vulnerable, killing you softly.