I build these walls,
And all inside I bleed,
Until I run dry,
And though it hurts I weep,
For my soul which cannot cry,
And through the pain I see,
How little I try.
For all the pain that feeds,
My longing to end the plea,
A death to come,
So all my mind will reach,
Until the ocean creeps,
The shorelines wafting from my broken heart.
A shattered glass that cuts my skin,
Break down these walls and see,
How hard it is for me to bleed,
All of my wounds are bare and sting,
Tear my heart apart for me,
Why don’t you, you’re not here,
So come and free me.
All of these words hold no meaning,
No respect for the heart that weeps itself dry,
Not even a boasting chance to have fear,
And so I’ll keep on bleeding,
No rest for a haunted soul…
These knife wounds that dig so deep,
Reaching down into the bleached heart,
A heart that throbs in its last beat,
And tell me please,
Am I turning into a freak?
Have I lost what it means to be free?
So lost and hurt by the one’s who do no harm…
Oh I cannot hold these words,
My heart does mourn for those who bleed,
Their wounds cry for the peace,
A peace enjoyed by our suffering,
Oh please, spare me this heart that grieves,
God! Take away all that screams!
Our hearts are silent,
As much as it hurts I will sing,
For those who know my unrelenting pain.
Take these wounds from me,
And bleed… Just as I have,
Tear in me two, just as they’ve done,
My heart does not rest,
No, it bleeds.
Cross the ocean of my blood,
On your ships of gold and pearl-white linen sails,
Unscathed, flawless, and perfect,
Let my blood stain your hull,
Defile and desecrate the immaculate hold,
Have your sails crumple and tear in the gales of my storm,
And only then,
Will you know.