We marched through the streets
With nothing but our shame
We prayed to a God
But we didn't even know his name
It's time to disappear
Into the morning rain
It's time to start looking
For our inner selves again
Across bleeding battlefields, scattered with broken minds, we march in unison in perpetual solitude. Hands not touching, mouths closed, not a single word drops. Only the occasional tear rolls out of a hollow mascara-black pit and bleeds down a freshly scarred cheek. We hear the sound of fanfares but they aren't playing for us. We walk as further away from the soul tearing screech of trumpets as possible. No direction, no purpose, no strength, not anymore. We just walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment