I have tasted the fruits of irony
I have basked in the wake of my own solitude
Too many times do I find myself back
In the arms of an unequalled symphony
written in dispair, the bitter notes play along
broken and out of tune.
Yet I still sing...
I have choked on the taste of agony
I have drowned in the waves of my own bitterness
So many times have I sought refuge within
The arms of the soul's lost treasure
buried beneath hate, the soft earth hardened
cracked and petrified.
Yet I still search...
I have sung with the fallen angel's symphony
I have flown on celestial wings dipped in my own blood
How many times have flown unabashedly to the
arms of the chorus that flows through me errantly
slipping past sometimes, to the tiny spark that hides
within the dried fields in my heart.