apr4,12
This is me and mine alone, the serenity that no one will understand
the plain fact that you're here; you're the one that's here
With my head bowed down weary
These white wings become revealed to you
This white pillar of light passing through my head to my chest and these bruised fragile hands you brush softly with your fingertips.
these thoughts running through my head over and over
surrounded by this white, that only you can see
this black night in which no one could touch me
where my scared, cold soul sunk into my chest
seeing this black surrounding it as though my body itself hadth become part of the dead night
I find this white, these wings I thought I had burned enveloping me and you the same. These gentle strong hands healing the bruising on mine. I am alive.
This is me and mine alone, the serenity that no one will understand
the plain fact that you're here; you're the one that's here
With my head bowed down weary
These white wings become revealed to you
This white pillar of light passing through my head to my chest and these bruised fragile hands you brush softly with your fingertips.
these thoughts running through my head over and over
surrounded by this white, that only you can see
this black night in which no one could touch me
where my scared, cold soul sunk into my chest
seeing this black surrounding it as though my body itself hadth become part of the dead night
I find this white, these wings I thought I had burned enveloping me and you the same. These gentle strong hands healing the bruising on mine. I am alive.
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