| *Good-byes Nothing to hold on to Slipping deeper into darkness. He swoons for the sun... He begs an idle god for happiness. Tattered & torn into piety, Reaching for a hand that isn't there. Ripped, blackened clothing Is all he has to wear. He clings to his own self, Trying to capture escaping heat. Always afraid of moving forward, Afraid of what he'll meet. Like a mime in a box, Breaking limbs to be freed. Ripping leather off his shoes To satisfy his hungry greed. The future is a prison cell, No real options will arise. The only thing he has to look forward to Are broken promises & good-byes. |