No movement, just cold
Not aged, but young and old.
A whisper of smoke, like a soul,
one that's translucent, their story untold.
The girl is but a shell
Her life is a living hell
Her soul whispers as it nears the end
Her quivering lips, no messages they can send
She used to cry, she used to think she couldn't bear
Now look, see here! She's barely there
It's because of you, you know,
every exclusion sank her deeper into the snow.
Your hands are red, and no longer soft.
They are soaked with blood you cannot wipe off.
And as you look down at your palms,
the bloody girl in the hallway remains calm.
She's a walking corpse, a ticking time bomb
And she's been singing the same fake song
She says she's fine, she's not fine,
And her dead eyes should be more than a sign.
Every time you forget her, you pelt her frail frame
And even when you've truly forgotten her name
Your hands still have that blood red glint
And you cannot deny the sin you commit
She tries to brave the storm of lies
And finally she must be a sacrifice
You tie her with bonds of hate
And hang her as if she's simple bait
She is marked to die,
Nobody bothers to cry,
And when you tossed her to her demise,
You see the numbness in her eyes.
And while you turned around,
A bloody hand came from the ground
Without help, without aid,
She kept herself from floating away.
And now life is as it was,
You live life without true love
She redeems herself through everyday life
And she has returned the light to her eyes.