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It Is


I may never cure it

Can I even define the pure "it"

It is

Tongue twisting terror

It is

A brash burning bearer

Of pure error

It seems as if something magnificent is wrong

And I hear it in ever song

And the words to sing along

Are as follow

Life is hollow

You are a shell trapped inside this hell and forever you may dwell

not wanting to breath in or exhale

Why prevail?

You will be of no avail

You shall sail through thunderous hail and throughout this tale you have seen no gale force of might come to your rescue

What will you accrue?

Gold has no value to you

your friends cant remove your blue

There is nothing important to do

Everyday I ask

is this true?

And everyday I find

Something new

which gets me through

And It's always you, love




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It Is
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