No seed will grow of this barren earth. Our hope
Unborn has died. I’ve slept in the dirt under the light
Of the moon and I know our souls have perished.
Calling to those that would hear but I am deaf.
Clawing at those that would feel but I am dead to my
Own fears.
Our cancer has grown into a stone. This water tastes
Like poison. Your doomsday machine towers above
Me to instill my vision.
Glowing pyre in the wind, like a glowing pyre in the
Wind I stand to heal.
I tried to touch the feelings they have shown, our
Cancer’s grown into a stone. More cracks as our
Ceiling caves in. This is our destiny.
These are visions, visions on.
نظرات