When gone what will my days amount to?
I can be caring yet conceited
But always remained loyal and true,
I somehow ended up lonely and defeated.
I do not pray to a whimsical God,
When I sing I bow my head,
Stumble in a temple or church,
Cannot see the light, worship music instead.
Seems the thing I idolize,
The only solace I've found still innocent,
As I lose myself in the lyrics and bars,
Fear gives way to reassurance; heaven-sent.
In melodies shown the only safety I trust,
For notes and words will continue to resound,
Though miles away from the nearest pew
Headphones become an altar, sermon written in song's sound.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
When gone what will my days amount to?
I can be caring yet conceited
But always remained loyal and true,
I somehow ended up lonely and defeated.
I do not pray to a whimsical God,
When I sing I bow my head,
Stumble in a temple or church,
Cannot see the light, worship music instead.
Seems the thing I idolize,
The only solace I've found still innocent,
As I lose myself in the lyrics and bars,
Fear gives way to reassurance; heaven-sent.
In melodies shown the only safety I trust,
For notes and words will continue to resound,
Though miles away from the nearest pew
Headphones become an altar, sermon written in song's sound.
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