Words can't describe, and rhythm won't define,
Because this is intoxication of the worst kind.
With thoughts, and dreams of inimitable horror,
Falling faster, going lower and lower,
Reimagining disaster, in propia persona,
A life since led with a lifeless chroma.
The pain so great, unbearably wrought,
Ages are past, with heavy wars fought.
Buried so deep, within a heart fueled by steam.
Of Lies, and slander-- it is not what it may seem.
It's okay, I'm okay, We're okay, only okay.
It won't be true, not in the least, but it's what I say.
For friends are burdens kept, your desires held true,
I'll die every time, sink with each word, if but for you.
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 8:45 PM UTC
Words can't describe, and rhythm won't define,
Because this is intoxication of the worst kind.
With thoughts, and dreams of inimitable horror,
Falling faster, going lower and lower,
Reimagining disaster, in propia persona,
A life since led with a lifeless chroma.
The pain so great, unbearably wrought,
Ages are past, with heavy wars fought.
Buried so deep, within a heart fueled by steam.
Of Lies, and slander-- it is not what it may seem.
It's okay, I'm okay, We're okay, only okay.
It won't be true, not in the least, but it's what I say.
For friends are burdens kept, your desires held true,
I'll die every time, sink with each word, if but for you.
Propia Persona is latin for 'One's self'- From Babygirl
