the sound of cicadas
break the silence
of the cool night air
nothing for miles
staring into the distance
seeing all of it
hopes for the future
shot down before fruition
dreams cease to be
before ever reaching reality
gazing to star filled heavens
at times like this
haunting memories
of a past resurface
transported back there
for the breifest of moments
which feel like endless hours
shattered confidence
with all things considered
breaks lesser people
suffocated by their own hand
ending it
escaping from it all
this cannot last forever
it has to be over soon
©2008-2009 ~Mage-Master
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Submitted: May 17, 2008
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Submitted: May 17, 2008
File Size: 798 bytes
Image Size: 0 bytes
Resolution: 0×0
Comments: 3
Favourites & Collections: 0
Views
Total: 16
Today: 0
Downloads
Total: 0
Today: 0
Thumb
Author's Comments
Just something I came up with the other day. Tell me what you think it's about by leaving a comment.
Oh ya, any comments like "This song is crap, quit writing n00b!" will be flamed appropriately.
Don't think this needs a mature content warning, I don't remember there being any swears anyway.
Oh ya, any comments like "This song is crap, quit writing n00b!" will be flamed appropriately.
Don't think this needs a mature content warning, I don't remember there being any swears anyway.
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Comments
The reason:
The overall feeling I get from this song is that someone is trying to maintain a sense of piece within their mind or heart.
But when they open their eyes and wake up, back to the real world, the horrors and hells of normal life destroys that peace and brings about the person's own self-destructive patterns, possibly to their demise.
--
To crumble into such nothingness
A despairing fate, for your lies
To pretend is the lunatic's legacy
Privileged to bolt the nails of heresy.
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering host.
--
This emptiness I've made my home
Embracing memories of dreams long gone
One last caress from the corpse of love is all I want
Underneath the cyanide sun
--
To crumble into such nothingness
A despairing fate, for your lies
To pretend is the lunatic's legacy
Privileged to bolt the nails of heresy.
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering host.
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