The Cure

Slowly, softly sinking into the sand,
Sorrows sing some strangely soothing songs.
Feeding soul with the bleeding hand,
To the hopeless which belongs.

Hold high the sun above the sea,
But its steadily crawling to the other shore.
Changing colors, burning whatever I see,
Raging waves will wash away the only painted cure.

The longing for the nightmares to come,
Shall soon be over, the devil himself makes sure.
In the abyss of the silent mind again there'll swirl a storm,
Run, take shelter, hide, before the drums of heaven roar.

Aching bones, shaking, cracking without a sound.
One by one and nerve by nerve fear gently takes control.
The pain exists but death is far and death the only cure,
It's too late now you must wait, endure till that raging waves to roll.

The purple grass and yellow pond reflect the land above.
Music brings to your nose taste of fresh-baked sand.
Such a sunny sad day and the scent of few dead doves,
The barking swans go by as there you smile and stand.


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