My
Immortal Soul
The soul that burns it's own.
The inner fire
not enough for light.
The dark tears that fall put it out.
And
they end the will to fight.
The little will that is
left.
Hardly enough to push on.
Some people think it's too much
to handle.
I think it comes of being unstrong.
And peace
and grace can never come.
Not to someone who's lost it all.
The
fire fades, the lighting cracks.
And then the eternal
fall.
Everything is in it's place.
It's place to never
fly.
All the tears will ever do,
is leave the rest to
cry.
When it is you never die.
You cannot leave your
pain.
You have nothing left to say.
And everyone to blame.
To
fall so far is out of passing.
To be so dead is out of life.
I
need to run fast and far.
But I cannot forget my strife.
The
pain of living strikes a match.
And the fire burns again.
Again
to be put out.
Nothing can be quite the same.
For when
you're living over and over.
And each time watching it die.
You
can do nothing but avoid the world.
And repent it with a
sigh.
Looking out the window of my eyes.
The immortal
soul is left with nothing.
Living long and living hard, I
fell.
And I can feel even the happiness of afterlife leaving.
