Feb 2016
I dream of you,
Rude and unkind,
I wish to help but it seems that it rewinds,
Is there really getting through the mind?
My eyes are black and blind,
The rage is with the red of hue,
Turns to blood without a cue,
It makes me tear for it might be true.
The dreams of new,
Can it reveal what is behind?
Or are you trying to remind?
Is he a big facade that created the blind?
Rude and unkind,
I wish to help but it seems that it rewinds,
Is there really getting through the mind?
My eyes are black and blind,
The rage is with the red of hue,
Turns to blood without a cue,
It makes me tear for it might be true.
The dreams of new,
Can it reveal what is behind?
Or are you trying to remind?
Is he a big facade that created the blind?
Sometimes you don't want to point because you don't know, and ergo if you did you would be lying.
But what if the clues were hidden between the lines of all the lies?
Can you prove that you live with the real devil inside?
But what if the clues were hidden between the lines of all the lies?
Can you prove that you live with the real devil inside?
