The Greys


Life is what you make it, but its never what it seems
Some will try to fake it, making shadows of their dreams
Reality will hide itself within the secret garden
Bearing forbidden blooming buds of all that's been forgotten

Souls doomed to float in the limbo of the lonely, lost and grey
Never to have the chance to bask in the warm colors of the day

insecurities like malignant tumors feasting on their brain
A silent killer to its host, for when attacked there is no pain

They speak in tongues unknown to them, moved with strings you cannot see
An obedient puppet to the master who decides who it will be

How can the sun rise with its promises of hope and new
On those who quilt themselves in clouds too thick for it to shine through

Life is what you make it, but its never what it seems
Some will try to fake it, making shadows of their dreams
Reality will hide itself within the secret garden
Bearing forbidden blooming buds of all that's been forgotten

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