Seared Thru
(walker)
when it comes to break you,
you'll have pale blind eyes, rest assured.
grey horizons harshly journeyed,
in thought only from black rooms.
what it coughs steals the promise.
what it charges steals the rain.
but who really needs its promise?
here it comes to crush you,
while you sit with your back turned.
why do we sit in shaded corners,
when the light we want's within?
what it coughs steals the promise.
what it charges takes my rain.
but who really needs its promise?
oh, you'll find me in spades,
pages turned in the rain.
please draw close the curtains,
and leave me back in the shade.
