Everyone dreams of being perfect
and you were.
Everyone has a scar.
Perfectly dramatic, cracked and faded.
When did you grow quiet?
The grail you waked with a kiss of longing,
To spill its light against the dark,
You longed to judge the shadows and fled into the depths of abandon.
Flashing red and baring teeth against the night
where you're not worth half of the heaven in your mind.
The temperature drops, you want something to save. What promises left you broken?
Searching for a warm insanity
to haunt you into the wanton gloom.
Play it at the base of your spine
Where nothing tragic can reach you.
A shock worth the silence fades in the dust
Riot against the desolation
And in the aftermath I love the irony
Desperation claws deep down inside,
to drag you back and pull you under.
But really, there's nothing there.
You can't help seeing farther than the innocence of youth
Perfectly forbidden, it burns.