Brocken shadows decide to linger
just a little longer.
The 12 am tears stain my face like bleach on a linen shirt
Dates with the dark are common
and the tsunamis of the past come to crash the world I' d so gracefully built
The brocken violin playing a sad song, the only one I know.
The ivy crawling up the old walls of the cage that keep me away from the outside world,the world I so miss to see.
The youthful one sings in the halls, her voice echoing and her delicate frame dancing before a single candle light. Yet when she turns, her face is seen crumbling, like the wall paper of the room.
No key will unlock the door that so blatantly is in front of me. I have tried to knock it down but my mortal blows are no match for the chains of this moster.
The stench of lonliness is overbearing. When will I smell the taste of freedom?
When will I walk the earthly ground?
When will I kiss the cheeks of life?
For the Gods only know, how trapped I am here.

I've told you too much about me,
I've shown you my history
Breaking the walls that I've put up around me, you never used the key
All of your questions. Was it just curiosity?
But at the time, I thought it was you being mine.
I wanted to talk to you, just like lovers do.
But you aint in love, only I was.

The secrets of my mother, I gave them all to you.
I know that I shouldn't have but I wanted to.
I sold them for nothing because you were bluffing. Now I pay the price.
Oh sweet darling, I am saying goodbye.

Roses made of glass
We were roses made of glass.
We stood tall in the ground.
Red like autumn
And beautiful like the day.
We were roses made of glass.
The wind blowing against us
Rain and thunder
But nothing could tear us down.
We were roses made of glass.
Untouched and pure
Sweet and youthful
And Death seemed so far away.
We were rose made of glass
Plucked from the ground
And smashed into small fragments
Like the broken people we had become.
We were roses made of glass
Pleasing to eyes of others
A representation of the perfection
Really we were all just boys, given the roles of men.
We were roses made of glass.