One Of A Kind.

This kind of devotion,
brings me,
a sinner,
to their humbled knees.

Touched by a smile that
blinds and shames the sun
into the night, the moon cries
for more, a silver of time.

And will it give peace?
This unearthly passion
for something we have yet
to live, cruelly denied.

I can see under such marble,
that strenght that gathers
at the tips of slim fingers,
at the corner of every move.

I have met people with the same
desire, their eyes betraying
an ocean too shallow for anyone
to swim in, to ever be free.

There's a longing to be the coming
midnight of this new world that's
been conquered, the music that falls
with the burning of the setting sun.

It won't last, there's a love,
a stifling need for something
we don't know, there's a mercy,
hope at the edge of a broken bone.

It won't hold, our frames are tired,
offered youth to greed's teeth,
a poison hard to swallow, overcome
with false peace yet we still follow.

No sleep and static that won't let
us speak, let us be reminded,
this violence hanging on every breath
has made us every type of fool.

Is it a different kind of sound?
This freedom that stretches from the
curve of your mouth to the lines of your
visions, my feet stuck to the ground.

With a flicker in your eyes I can
catch the light that breathes a fire,
kind by nature, I can gather, but
I've never been close enough to burn.

This kind of devotion,
brings me,
a dreamer,
to their humbled knees.