Young minds wonder, to a place unseen.
The wooden timbers lie in my dreams.
These trees will consume you,
Hide you from the world.
Take you away,
Give you life, give you strength.
But dreams are just dreams, and nothing more.
Fragile body will not let you concur it.
You're starting to wither,
Not body but soul, your troubled mind drowning in confliction.
The only direction is coming from within your blackening heart.
Why does time slow, stop spinning when we are in the dark?
Is it dying mind or rusty heart?
To live means to endure pain.
Nothing but is irony.
Chemical swirls and tired eyes fix the surface,
But it is much deeper than it seems.
Is this all just madness in a sinner's dream?
Can you fix what is broken but leave the pieces,
To leave the memories but once more, feel whole?
Your lover catching the demon that devours your soul.
Alone seems so peaceful, would you like to stay in the darkness?
I could not reveal to myself where a single part of my heart is.
And there is such a thing called spiritual healing.
You were dealt bad cards,
And this is your way of dealing.
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