The dripping tap that never stops
Is soon to flood my home
The stale waters flow with me
Wherever I may roam
...
I dread to ebb to times so twisted
When only half a heart existed
And I was just a ghost alone
Who'd haunt the world and be unknown
...
That guiding light in the distance
A river without resistance
The sweet melody of songbirds
The struggle to find the right words
...
Though I have a pulse, I'm not alive
Though I have motion, I have no drive
I have a face but no identity
Though I'm quiet, I've no serenity
...
The brightest stars in the darkest night skies
Or the sparkle of diamonds freshly shined
Hold nothing to the twinkles of light in her eyes
Nothing less than grace defined
...
He wanders aimless, nowhere bound, for many days on end
Cares not to know, where he will go, or where the night he'll spend
But he won't wait, nor hesitate, allow his will to bend
Though his feet ache, he shall not break, the road is his best friend
...
It's heart burns far more hotter, than the flames upon his wings
With eyes that shine much brighter than the fire that it brings
It doesn't have a temper, though it's body is a blaze
Gentle bird, born of fire, there is nothing that it preys
...
Crippled under weighted world
That sits upon his fragile shoulder
The ground he stood forever swirled
Beneath his feet the embers smoulder
...
Gone are the faces that I once saw
And silent, the voices that I once heard
The bridges of old that connected us all
Burned down and vanished with no spoken word
...
In a damp cell, no windows or view
Is a blank canvas standing still
A blank canvas, pale and old
Contains a story yet untold
...