The Mending Chords
Armor for the Broken
hold your hands out
to receive insects of such royalty
laid across this black veil chained over
chords of frustration
as I collapse into your open wound
if this is real then this is shame
if this is real then this is the end...
its times like these we all feel miles away
a guilty conscience wont stop the shaking
this downpour cant hide oceans
a body abandon, numb and left alone
we're chasing golden vision
wearing the crown, I feed the few
we're chasing golden vision
and quench the thirst
for those lost in the fold
a holocaust shall rein
gnawing at the heels of heroes
pry her from these cold dead hands
you're loosing sight
of everything you ever loved
my ribs will break in loving arms
NO COMFORT, NO SYMPATHY
bearing your teeth
your voice falls upon deaf ears.
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