Fools were meant to be broken.
A tortured soul
is all that’s left
if you flirt in
the face of death,
withdraw your cards
and show your hand
now, leave the room
whilst you still can.
There’s a space in the mirror
Where my reflection used to be
I don’t see anything familiar
I don’t see anything of me
I see a blurry, ghosted image;
His haunted eyes, they swell with sorrow
I wonder, will I find myself again,
Or will he still be here, tomorrow.
I crawled home through a harsh and heavy winter,
I watched the golden sun sink in her autumn haze.
Encouraged by the spring I hope to reap what I have sown,
And then run happy into endless summer days.
A rainbow dipped in shades of grey, is really just a way to say
Stand strong and tall if faced with grief; as colour only hides beneath.
The road to hell was paved with good intentions
My good intentions always turned out bad
So bad intentions led me on another road
So the road I walk along is dark and sad