Broken Home

Alone in a dark house,
I once called this home...
Now the walls are all empty,
simply mortar and stone.
Coldness creeps in
with the wind from outside.
Filling up places,
and the spaces inside...

of my chest.

And you think i'd know better,
bet you'd think I know best...
Not to visit the past,
but to the past I confessed,

all of my sins...

my dreams and my whims.
No our ghosts wont tell secrets,
they keep them within,
locked behind lips
turned up with a grin.

All to knowing...

Of the truths laid to rest...
Of the lies i'm now sowing...
Of the ones that i've loved
with the blood thats still flowing,

through these veins.

And so I came for a visit,
to see what remains...
of the walls of my past,
of a child insane...
But inside I found phantoms
where darkness reclaimed,
the void that was left
when love ran away...