Words that form, have no meaning.
The truth I speak,
Isn't the truth.
Alone in this new life of mine,
Imprisoned in this cage built by my own hands.
The directions are a blur,
As my feet step on thorns.
I lament my fall, I cry out in despair.
A song bereft of word or rhyme.
Falling to oblivion that lures me in,
Promising happiness like a lullaby.
Fallen.
Promise.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
Words that form, have no meaning.
The truth I speak,
Isn't the truth.
Alone in this new life of mine,
Imprisoned in this cage built by my own hands.
The directions are a blur,
As my feet step on thorns.
I lament my fall, I cry out in despair.
A song bereft of word or rhyme.
Falling to oblivion that lures me in,
Promising happiness like a lullaby.
Fallen.
Promise.
