Let me rest upon your
shore. The waves have
been dragging me down
lately and beating my body
against the rocks. I won't
deny that i can't take this no
more. Lift my head up from the ocean's cruel waves so i don't
drown. Take me to a better place
like in the story of PeterPan
because this one is making me
frown. Oh darling paint me
a smile if your talented hands
can. Paint me with the colours
you have on your bedroom walls.
Use pretty shades of pink and
green as if i have make up on to
cover my bruised lips and the
scars on these hips. Paint me
close to you with my head
resting upon your shore* ~

I know of a place,
where it only rains ash.
The sun doesn't shine,
it was swallowed en masse.
By an ominous void,
that's now stifled the grass.
I'm loathe to return,
but I'll lead you if asked.

We'll journey on over,
to death's little home.
Where graves fill the fields,
in neat little rows.
Not a songbird in sight,
just cackling crows.
Nor will flowers you see,
where the bone roses grow.

I could equate the stars to you
but that wouldn't be accurate
The stars are millions of miles away
and you're right here
and I prefer it that way

the stars go down at night
but you're still there in the morning

well, they never leave
but some times I can't see them
like your heart
I can't see it
but I know it's there
beating
doing its job

but the thing you and the stars have in common
natural beauty
and
pure wonder