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The Falling
When will my soul fall through?
Fall deep inside so it won’t show you.
This pain I feel,
It feels so real.
I want to feel the way you do.
To cry with tears spilling down upon the ground.
To discover those pearls, just asking to be found.
The blood flows quick and the poison spreads fast.
This everlasting flow, may it be your very last.
The madness as they take flight and soar.
Until that day when you shake to the core.
The mind of the living surrounds the dead.
Lying there in silence in their eternal bed.
To feel the pain and the rapture as one.
The only way is when it’s too late, it’s done.
To feel the blood flow throughout your frame.
Will never convey the truest sense of pain.
Upon your world they may once have crept.
The young and the old, the useless and adept.
Have all lost their souls to the eternal fire.
They made their choice, now they burn upon the pyre.
The shock is too much and the great, they shall fall.
They spell out the fates that may hence suit us all.
To dance among the graveyards, atop the headstones, give.
To know that those underneath us all just want to live.
In the sunlight that fades upon this dying grass.
To see our worst fears behind the frosted glass.
The ones buried low, underneath this lost plain.
They hide their faces, from guilt, and from shame.
In their former lives they might have done wrong.
Now they’ve lain quiet, in the silence, for so long.
Though once may have been great kings of old.
Now they are dead, their hands, lifeless and cold.