return
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Living my life like it's golden.Living my life like im chosen.I am no longer broken.I am beholden, unfolding.Say in motion like the ocean, rolling.
Shall I speak to you my secrets
in hushed and airy tones
near the warmly-lit fire?
Sweet taste of nectar and honey
you praise me and forget yourself.
How this narrative reminds me of one such time
The turbulences of Winter, Spring, and Summer pass
Enthusiasm swells as home can now be viewed
In the distance yet on the horizon
Though I am advised to exercise caution--
"Still.. Still.. Still..
How I wonder
How I wander
Drill, Drill, Drill
Stay in line
Stay with time
The return of the rain heralds ages of growthwhere leaves left forgotten to their last ending goeth.
The return of the rain hails the heel of old firesmakes moss meet to grow on tall boreal spires.
They say "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"
On this crooked path they encourage you to walk a little longer
Eyes wide open but she doesn't see the picture
Od'd on the ground guess the drugs didn't miss her
I beg this question upon you,
Tie up my wrists
Bind my heart
Wrap it tenderly beneath your knife
I assure you
It does not bleed
For bleeding is a sign of death,
And they lived happily ever after.
Fairy tales live on in our memories
As a happy story, life, and ending
They've been watching us for years on end,
Watching us grow, change, and leave
A crown of thorns
i bow before,
but know no other king;
And nations fall
when they hear the call;
that only God can sing
relief, repent rejoice
as our king has again returned
Sakura, color me pink,
Sakura, color me white.
Above all colors, don't hold red.
A delicate figure among the snow,
Such jealousy and respect cannot compare
Your Wisdom and you Pride.
Blind was my Faith that allowed me to see
Plugged were my ears, that I did hear his voice decree-
As I look all around me,
I think of everything happening
and weep; I thought I was free,
but it seems I am returning;
to the thing painful to be,
made of emotion constantly turning.
the river rushes past my feet
toes scrape the surface
ice cold
the dirt rushes past my feet
ground is hard with frost
hurry hurry hurry
the tarmac rushes past my feet
A man stood there, alone in the room, looking out its windows.It was his last day in his home, a home in a land not truly his, amongst a people not his own,But he loved them.And this was his home.
"Tell me, tell me, tell me once more.
The words you say before you walk out the door.
Please don't go, don't leave me here alone.
How will I know if you will ever return home?
I promise I won't tug at your hand.
