Dreaming is the real life,
and living seems the dream,
Heaven awaits, as aftermath,
for the days lost,
at every rising sun...
and Every night,
the stars shine,
but no one seems to care,
at every rising moon,
a soul is lost,
because no one's ever there...
A lonely ear, to listen,
an empty heart, to feel,
a shoulder for a head to rest,
when nothing feels so real,
now memories seem grafittied,
upon the crumbling walls,
the ruins left, just rotting,
and there is where you'll fall...
so look to the skies,
for anwsers to your pain,
every empty light,
an ever watching eye,
and when the sun sleeps,
you'll never be the same...
and Every night,
the stars shine,
but no one seems to care,
at every rising moon,
a soul is lost,
because no one's ever there... |
Submission Name: Age of the Martyr
