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Twisting the images |
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Watching them grow |
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Into what they are not |
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Forget we forgot as they fed on what's real |
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The path I fell onto |
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Of tears wades through |
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Await the demise |
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In sorry disguise from the things that |
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I feel Time does not exist |
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The days as thin as mist |
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Deep within my eyes |
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There is a heart that died long ago |
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What is it going to take to get through to you? |
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To open your fear-blinded eyes? |
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Because there was this fear that would tear at me |
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That by our own hands we would fall |
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These clouds can pass no light |
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Just silhouettes of tired life |
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Sorrow begging, why?, for answers miles and miles from the truth |
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Endurance and patience lost |
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From fighting this holocaust |
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Destroying within and eating its way from the core |
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Time does not exist |
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These days are meaningless |
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Deep within my eyes |
|
There is a heart that died long ago |
|
What is it going to take to get through to you? |
|
To open your fear-blinded eyes? |
|
Because there was this fear that would tear at me |
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That by our own hands we would fall * |
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Forgive this heart |
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Long stagnant with its blood |
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For it is here, within my suffering |
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That these, the altars of the soul have creaked |
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Suffering |
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Hour... Suffering |
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Hour... Suffering |
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Hour... My darkest hour is now |
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What is it going to take to get through to you? |
|
To open your fear-blinded eyes? |
|
Because there was this fear that would tear at me |
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That by our own hands we would fall [* Taken from 'THE SUFFERING HOUR', a poem by TOM D. LISKEY] |
