The silence, how long do I have to take the silence. It haunts me, a lingering affect that I can't get rid of. The hollowing waves of sorrow, the stainless night of tears, yet blood flows like it paved a clear stain crimson path of no tomorrow.
Empty, exactly how you describe this place. No soul in sight, at least not living anyway. We tell ourselves, this cold icey touch is an illusion of our mind. A fragment of memories, that are not ours but we keep them so we never feel alone. So, that we never get haunted by forgetting our sins. Moving on, when we who murdered in there eyes are demons. Within run blood cold, we see no truth, no scars just fear. Fear of lonleyness, fear of losing what was never there. Yes it's an illusion, fragments of your imagination running wild. But, is it really? You begin to question, what is real what is false. You see lies, but you see no truth to thoughs lies. You seek nothing but solitude wanting to be free, to be loved but it's slips through your fingers falling from your pail limp bones. As you know the answer, you are afraid to admit you never had what you can't keep. You never loved for they were never loved, you never seen because they were never there. Asking yourself, what if I fall asleep? What if I close my eyes, these stained hands of karma never there. But, I awake to see another dare. No, you can never hide from these fruits that are bare. You'r sins, you are nothing when you say you are something. You, are something if you know you are nothing. Is it true? But, what if what you seen is never there. Was if what you seen is all of nothing but false again, afraid to see reality or maybe blind that nothing is real. Words of lie, words of wisdom what if we all had fallen asleep always asking whys? What if we never wake up, our vision remains a blur. Our hands staind, our mouths slured with the druken words. For we could never say the one words needed to be said, a simple goodbye at best. Your heart beasts with a heavy chest, you sigh woundering, oh always woundering where the answers lie when you need them the most. Oh, is it ever to late for goodbyes? or are there no such things, and only the word of death is no more then irrelevant in your mind.