I can find no solace in
Words we have lost between us again
I can find no justice in these empty feelings;
I can find no comfort lying in my bed alone,
Waiting to hear the haunting scream of a deadened phone,
I cannot whisper I am fine to myself.
I am the dandelion, you the rose,
Trapped in silence, a bitter pose
My indifference a sham;
My repulsive words and face of stone
Is only a fake, a mask of bone
My only way to live with myself,
Is to be free to fly the winds of eternitys many skies,
Mortality my only boundary I see in my mind,
I am not fine or any semblance of this word.
I am the river that can never look back,
For fear of seeing your reflection intact
This tainted water only flows forward;
For once only the river can guide me,
For once I only wish I could see
The future, the past, you and me
Caged, blanketed by guilt and blame
Maybe we can try to feel the same
One day on the rivers edge;
We can sit and be at peace
For ourselves at least,
And view the setting sun into eternity.