My heart sleeve is tattooed and scattered
Four wind corner scars
Crisscrossing like battle lines
I've drawn in this sand of mine
The roar of your cannon's memory
Explodes loud and clear
Over the muffled cries of those that marked before you
Their leaving was more like a land mind
Blasting craters in my giving soil
That have since filled back in
Where as you hurt as Namazu would
Without Kashima to guard
Ripping my earth apart
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
My heart sleeve is tattooed and scattered
Four wind corner scars
Crisscrossing like battle lines
I've drawn in this sand of mine
The roar of your cannon's memory
Explodes loud and clear
Over the muffled cries of those that marked before you
Their leaving was more like a land mind
Blasting craters in my giving soil
That have since filled back in
Where as you hurt as Namazu would
Without Kashima to guard
Ripping my earth apart
Everyone leaves a mark, no matter the size. Our lives are not but memory and those memories can both hurt and heal.
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