I wish it would have snowed in the summertime burying my contentment to be frozen for ever after
now, with this cold it only solidifies my souls emptiness
frigid again
buried beneath billions of snowflakes
frostbitten with todays disappoinments
and all I wanted were your warm arms to carry me through the seasons
but they always change and so do expectations
falling like leaves burnt browns billowing like yesterday in the sun
fragrant with tears of our soldiers
salt stinging open pores with hearts pouring out "please make it home whole"
but it's an unlikely story
written by unlucky men
walking unholy ground to make it to heaven
with their hearts colder than todays snow
and they would rather carry shovels to make snow forts
than guns to make massacres of men
but now they make snow caskets
to bury our men in the sand
trying to balance out this weight they have been handed
when night is illuminated with bombs bursting
and bright skies blackened with thick smoke
they only have yesterday to soothe them
because tomorrow has been lost in the eclipse of hope
and I, I left with this hollow heart at home hear stories of lost love
mine never found and forgotten too soon
because like our soldiers
I was fighting bathed in blood of beating hearts ceasing
the rhythm lingering on the horizon waiting for the earth to exhale
all of the life it has stolen
and the heros walking on broken bones to stand proud again
but its too far removed to remember this rhythm
or reason of beating hearts frozen in sandstorms
but I, I lingering on moments where the mountains swallow the sun
I want to be reborn
nurtured in the womb of mother nature
to feel the earths pulse from within
and maybe, just maybe I could piece together these broken hearts
of frozen men hoping to make it home whole.
now, with this cold it only solidifies my souls emptiness
frigid again
buried beneath billions of snowflakes
frostbitten with todays disappoinments
and all I wanted were your warm arms to carry me through the seasons
but they always change and so do expectations
falling like leaves burnt browns billowing like yesterday in the sun
fragrant with tears of our soldiers
salt stinging open pores with hearts pouring out "please make it home whole"
but it's an unlikely story
written by unlucky men
walking unholy ground to make it to heaven
with their hearts colder than todays snow
and they would rather carry shovels to make snow forts
than guns to make massacres of men
but now they make snow caskets
to bury our men in the sand
trying to balance out this weight they have been handed
when night is illuminated with bombs bursting
and bright skies blackened with thick smoke
they only have yesterday to soothe them
because tomorrow has been lost in the eclipse of hope
and I, I left with this hollow heart at home hear stories of lost love
mine never found and forgotten too soon
because like our soldiers
I was fighting bathed in blood of beating hearts ceasing
the rhythm lingering on the horizon waiting for the earth to exhale
all of the life it has stolen
and the heros walking on broken bones to stand proud again
but its too far removed to remember this rhythm
or reason of beating hearts frozen in sandstorms
but I, I lingering on moments where the mountains swallow the sun
I want to be reborn
nurtured in the womb of mother nature
to feel the earths pulse from within
and maybe, just maybe I could piece together these broken hearts
of frozen men hoping to make it home whole.
posted by LyricalZiplock @ 11:45 AM
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