Can I just point a gun to myself?
Not sure how much hurt I can take
Not sure how much of this life I can handle
Can I let this instrument whom I call Life, take its toll to **** oneself?
I have sang a song that pleases the heart
I have told the harp to go pluck its heart strings
Then I have told a violin to play, go play lies
This is not art, art would not do us apart
A deadly symphony begins
After the violin had played its lies
The orchestra halted, abruptly stops
The harp continued to play; miserably
The violin fought for the harp, suffocating its heart strings
With strings detached from the harp, broken
Violins strings started becoming broken
Violin cried, wept, and tried to piece her strings back together
The maestro hugged the violin, and began to piece her strings
With every string became the maestro’s project
With every string became resistance to heal
The resistance becomes a theme to the violin
Harp could not play anymore with an instrument he no longer wants
Amid fixing her strings, she stops
Stops caring, the pain becomes herself
Stops tuning, to find her sound
Another deadly symphony plays
Violin stops tuning, her bow begins to deteriorate
She tries to salvage what is left of her bow
She drowns her sorrow to cover, numb, hide the pain
She ruins her well-being with smoke to numb more
She finds a partner to celebrate her pain, to suffocate
She finds herself, in a darker realm
Nothing seems to suffice her soul anymore
In a world where she continues to ****** herself more
She slips into another world, twilight zone
Will the end, ever come? Will there even be peace, silence?
I just want to take a knife to my flesh
Let to music pour out onto the floor, for everyone to see
I feel the end drawing near, the beauty of numb, death
As for now, I’ll let the deadly symphony play
A deadly symphony written by someone
Fears in rejection, lies with a purpose
Abandonment becomes the violin forever
Give me Heaven, Give me Hell, Give me a handgun
I’ll decide
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 4:10 AM UTC
Can I just point a gun to myself?
Not sure how much hurt I can take
Not sure how much of this life I can handle
Can I let this instrument whom I call Life, take its toll to **** oneself?
I have sang a song that pleases the heart
I have told the harp to go pluck its heart strings
Then I have told a violin to play, go play lies
This is not art, art would not do us apart
A deadly symphony begins
After the violin had played its lies
The orchestra halted, abruptly stops
The harp continued to play; miserably
The violin fought for the harp, suffocating its heart strings
With strings detached from the harp, broken
Violins strings started becoming broken
Violin cried, wept, and tried to piece her strings back together
The maestro hugged the violin, and began to piece her strings
With every string became the maestro’s project
With every string became resistance to heal
The resistance becomes a theme to the violin
Harp could not play anymore with an instrument he no longer wants
Amid fixing her strings, she stops
Stops caring, the pain becomes herself
Stops tuning, to find her sound
Another deadly symphony plays
Violin stops tuning, her bow begins to deteriorate
She tries to salvage what is left of her bow
She drowns her sorrow to cover, numb, hide the pain
She ruins her well-being with smoke to numb more
She finds a partner to celebrate her pain, to suffocate
She finds herself, in a darker realm
Nothing seems to suffice her soul anymore
In a world where she continues to ****** herself more
She slips into another world, twilight zone
Will the end, ever come? Will there even be peace, silence?
I just want to take a knife to my flesh
Let to music pour out onto the floor, for everyone to see
I feel the end drawing near, the beauty of numb, death
As for now, I’ll let the deadly symphony play
A deadly symphony written by someone
Fears in rejection, lies with a purpose
Abandonment becomes the violin forever
Give me Heaven, Give me Hell, Give me a handgun
I’ll decide
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