Daniel Brown Biography

Here we are,
Back in the land of the living...
Grey and materialistic,
Unraveled by the depth of the dead,
...

Built upon my broken back,
Upon a broken shore.
Stretching out beyond the sea,
And past the open door.
...

Coming to an end,
A plunge into the darkness,
Death by blade or bullet.
Key hole wind, winding through my head
...

I use a hand to kill myself,
I use a deadly tool,
I watch it move, I watch it work…
It seems like days and days,
...

Frail little dead things...
Feet don't fail me now,
Crossed the line and folded flat,
slowly set to drown.
...