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A soul left in darkness' wake can yet again be freed For there's always a crown hidden behind the color of fire And this fire can always warm a heart so cold And yet smirks on burning time's tested and tempted dreams To provide a sweet, yet bitter taste of love's own mercy A gracious fall is love, the last denominator always is pain And the pain is often greater than the love itself At its shores there is hope, then the full and blue moons, light and bright sparks in stars And within this hope, lie the wishes and dreams of the fallen few Dormant as the saffron in the rocks, hushed as the silence in the glaciers For a sinner's love is his love to sin For a saint, it's the best sermon that life's seen The rose slowly chokes under the gaze of discontent *Charming as a black rose, a woeful soul now begins Entwining into the lovelorn chains of thorns, white lilies altered to red* Now as a feather falls to crush a heart A speck of sand ending this meteoric blast With the soul now resting in the darkness once again The rose breathes a silent whisper and disappears into the air Molding to be the enigma a lover beholds The kaleidoscopic perfection of the faucets in life To contradict the evils that is ever present in our hearts © 2005
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Adoring a Lovelorn Life (Collaboration with Tina Rogers)
A soul left in darkness' wake can yet again be freed For there's always a crown hidden behind the color of fire And this fire can always warm a heart so cold And yet smirks on burning time's tested and tempted dreams To provide a sweet, yet bitter taste of love's own mercy A gracious fall is love, the last denominator always is pain And the pain is often greater than the love itself At its shores there is hope, then the full and blue moons, light and bright sparks in stars And within this hope, lie the wishes and dreams of the fallen few Dormant as the saffron in the rocks, hushed as the silence in the glaciers For a sinner's love is his love to sin For a saint, it's the best sermon that life's seen The rose slowly chokes under the gaze of discontent *Charming as a black rose, a woeful soul now begins Entwining into the lovelorn chains of thorns, white lilies altered to red* Now as a feather falls to crush a heart A speck of sand ending this meteoric blast With the soul now resting in the darkness once again The rose breathes a silent whisper and disappears into the air Molding to be the enigma a lover beholds The kaleidoscopic perfection of the faucets in life To contradict the evils that is ever present in our hearts © 2005
neal-emanuelson
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
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