The river that flows from the depths of your soul;
It touches my hand in a sting of rain.
There is pain there, yes
In your waters.
A child afraid of the dark is in your eyes;
She looks through and sees nothing.
I am here, yes
A midst your waters.
The river brings cold to my being:
Lest I stay I die,
You breathe my life,
If I surrender I Drown,
and breathe no more.
I fear I am a blur to you now,
as the rain stings your eyes.
Your gaze eroded by water
Your gaze so cold and hollow
Promise you'll find a flame,
in the face of your flooding apathy
For not we grow cold and die.
and the river that flows from the depths of your soul,
shall take us dark and cold,
to sleep.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 3:05 AM UTC
The river that flows from the depths of your soul;
It touches my hand in a sting of rain.
There is pain there, yes
In your waters.
A child afraid of the dark is in your eyes;
She looks through and sees nothing.
I am here, yes
A midst your waters.
The river brings cold to my being:
Lest I stay I die,
You breathe my life,
If I surrender I Drown,
and breathe no more.
I fear I am a blur to you now,
as the rain stings your eyes.
Your gaze eroded by water
Your gaze so cold and hollow
Promise you'll find a flame,
in the face of your flooding apathy
For not we grow cold and die.
and the river that flows from the depths of your soul,
shall take us dark and cold,
to sleep.
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