When your tongue has fallen silent
and the voices in your head too;
you automatically explore
- beautiful hidden realms.

Tangled up in.

The corners of your soul
are growing cobwebs
and I'm caught.
Lightless, sightless.

Tangled up in your sacred flame.
Fingers stretching towards the sun.
Blind eyes searching for warmth.

Free me from these cold shadows
sprouting in the corners of your soul.

These hidden battles,
quiet fights.

Turn it inside out
and
flood with light.

Turning into ashes,
burying themselves,
people been really
making that decision
more and more
these days.

Guess it don't make
a great argument
for the state of things.

People'd rather live in hell
than deal with living here
for one more day.

Maybe they're renovating down there.
Maybe it's nicer these days.
I'm sure I'll see it too one day,
one way or another,
but till then I'm just praying
we all stop preying
on ourselves.

The unsmelled rose on the back of the bush
Is mocked by the one in the vase
But water can not replace good soil
And the unsmelled rose laughs last.

ljm