this light in my eyes.. is it really so bright, or have i just been hiding under the umbrella?

i'll melodize even the dirtiest of hymns..

in the skies of capsizing floodgates, together we'll shatter mirrors and hide our fragmented reflections in locked and keyless drawers.. somehow that always makes things seem better than they really are.

with the condonement of cursing angels, in tandem we'll knit this tattered and torn yarnwork into a quilt to comfort the bloodsoaked chest we all know too well.. sometimes i think that things may seem better than they really are.

but when there's only enough nerve for one rusted soul to stand on this one empty stage, the one flickering streetlight will give its one final glow, and the ensuing darkness will be more comforting that we've yet to know..

polluted and tied to the ladder, i'll sleep..

wake me up when i ask not to be; that's the only way i'll see the sun rise.