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SOS

de The Funeral Portrait

Time begot from passing to the heavens isn't heaven-sent
Pieces of cerulean sky are breaking again
All will spit and shake before they learn to speak
Picture if you will, clawing at the wall beside an open door because no one wants the truth to hurt

This is what we've waited for: Haunting silence
I can go on with or without you
The same seas and oceans, different shade of blue
Will I keep my head above water?

It seems that the blackest ocean makes taller waves than I have ever seen
Could it be proximity?
The Moon is so much larger here
Towering mantises praying on daughters

Pray to Him out of spite for me
I am truth, I am nothing

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