Here it is. Don't be mean...just tell me what you like or don't like.
Tattered Dreams By Richele
She holds on to her false-coloured vision leaving reality to wither into flame Unbeknownst to her young mind her dreams will be fantasies devoid of names Her life has morphed into a story that trees whisper with forgotten words Can she hear the blood of screaming pain drip into the void of everlasting hurt?
I wish I could open her blinded eyes to a world composed of lustful hopes We dance together and weave a thought and tangle ourselves in twisted ropes.
Now she's lost in the Paths of the Dead voice are calling, beckoning her to die Following the light of years long past the putrid water stifiles her cries. She should have left dreaming for the evening when doors can be locked and are chained I'd love to reach through the unknown depths to save myself from drowning in vain.
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
I'm sorry if I offended anyone... but it just doesn't seem to me like she wrote that. If she did, congrats, it's excellent but something makes me doubt it.
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
And why do you doubt it? Unlike some people (not making reference to anyone in particular) I don't enjoy copying and pasting someone else's work. That's one of the lowest things anyone can do, in my opinion.
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
Hah, there's an asshole on the board that isn't me.
I faced death. I went in with my arms swinging. But I heard my own breath and had to face that I'm still living. I'm still flesh. I hold on to awful feelings. I'm not dead... My chest still draws breath. I hold it. I'm buoyant. There's no end.