Author's note: I own nothing, enjoy.
I'm so tired…
I've tried so hard to finish... what I easily began.
The night still reaches out to me; her hands are soft and cold,
And I still hold her to me, as I watch my hopes fold…
Fluttering in a brushfire, a bird that cannot fly,
Drowning in the torrents of the storm that they supply,
Silently I strangle where I know they cannot see,
And I pray, that one day my death will deliver me…
Yes I'm cold.
Always and everywhere, I cannot bear to feel…
And yes, I'm torn...
Between the right and wrong, though neither I know can be real.
Lost and alone…
Even in a crowded hall.
I drink my fill, but in my pain can't take it all.
The nights embrace... Does not belong to me,
It worships Him, and He won't let me be…
So here I stand... awaiting my comand...
Fighter for a cause that perhaps I never did defend...
The sun shall rise,
And we shall run...
The pain will blossom through me, I may be undone.
And they shall shine,
The good, the bad,
The guided and the lost,
The sane and the mad,
The hated and the loved,
The broken and the free,
The mortality cost!
The bliss, and agony!
And when the dust has settled, and nothing here draws breath…
…Oh I pray I lay beside those two, who lead us all to death…
…Now, I flutter in a brushfire, a bird that cannot fly...
Drown within the torrents of the storm that they supply,
Silently I strangle, where I know they will not see...
And I pray that one day my death will deliver me..
Only in death I fear, can any man be free,
The only question left stands,
...am I ready, to be?