Pasture

I have wrath
I have irrepressible hatred
I am gloomy, cheerless and sulky

Can`t stand you,
Can`t speak or look at you,
You call me melancholic, slightly ironic and abusive

Might be true, still I rather be me than you
You have no opinion, no attitude, not even a single remark

I would rather feel righteous anger, than useless bliss
Let my rage be dominant, let it break me
let it run over me, shake me, strip me of your reckless existence

I am the social misfit, But I`m not part of the herd,
I might be alone, but i`m not a brainless sheep

So to all of you from the flock
I wish you good fortune, you will need it,
because the herd can`t go anywhere withouth its shepherd... without me

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