You see the soul that's torn and cold,
Where demons lurk with tales untold.
The idea of speaking and letting it out,
Shall forever fill this soul with doubt.
To confide in another and lay it all to bare,
They'll take on this burden or they won't care.
Why then should it speak just to bring others down,
Or talk to the walls who don't hear a sound.
Don't ask this soul if it's doing alright,
It hurts more to hide it than it hurts to fight.
This soul won't confess and let others in,
It will lie in its' longing until the bitter end.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
You see the soul that's torn and cold,
Where demons lurk with tales untold.
The idea of speaking and letting it out,
Shall forever fill this soul with doubt.
To confide in another and lay it all to bare,
They'll take on this burden or they won't care.
Why then should it speak just to bring others down,
Or talk to the walls who don't hear a sound.
Don't ask this soul if it's doing alright,
It hurts more to hide it than it hurts to fight.
This soul won't confess and let others in,
It will lie in its' longing until the bitter end.
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