Tired, tired of dreaming. You see me, standing at the cliffs. I'm watching, calculating. The spray hits rock, sending it everywhere. I move too slow for this world. I am the cold ocean spray that laps the earth and corrodes it's insides. Sometimes I wish they been wrong and the earth truly was flat, and I could drop off the end of the earth, so I could spiral the distance into a deeper and darker abyss. I lift my arms, like a bird, like the black bird. But my wing is broken and it's the dead of night and I fall into the swirling entiety. My body submerged, I cannot breathe, and the cold water consumes. It fills my souls, drowning it. I feel nothing. I can't hear you now, I can't hear your words. It's too late, your lies cannot be redeemed, my lies cannot be redeemed. My anger dissolves, as if waiting, knowing I'll be pulled from the chaos. I wait for never comes. I'm cold, a face in a sea of cherub faces, a face pale and white. A floating soul out of a thousand, sweet cherub faces of peace, accepting the fate they had concieved.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Tired, tired of dreaming. You see me, standing at the cliffs. I'm watching, calculating. The spray hits rock, sending it everywhere. I move too slow for this world. I am the cold ocean spray that laps the earth and corrodes it's insides. Sometimes I wish they been wrong and the earth truly was flat, and I could drop off the end of the earth, so I could spiral the distance into a deeper and darker abyss. I lift my arms, like a bird, like the black bird. But my wing is broken and it's the dead of night and I fall into the swirling entiety. My body submerged, I cannot breathe, and the cold water consumes. It fills my souls, drowning it. I feel nothing. I can't hear you now, I can't hear your words. It's too late, your lies cannot be redeemed, my lies cannot be redeemed. My anger dissolves, as if waiting, knowing I'll be pulled from the chaos. I wait for never comes. I'm cold, a face in a sea of cherub faces, a face pale and white. A floating soul out of a thousand, sweet cherub faces of peace, accepting the fate they had concieved.
