I hear death is kinder than love,
Actions gentler than words,
Nightmares more merciful than memories.
I had heard it all,
Yet I never did understand.
I had heard it all,
Yet it just didn't go through me.
Wise men did speak,
I called them fools.
Now I feel weak,
As I see my life as proof,
It slowly follows their words,
Like it's nothing more than a script.
Can't do none,
No movement,
No wisdom,
No anger,
No laughter,
No rum,
No charter,
And certainly not another chapter.
Nothing shall work,
To remove me of this pain.
All that's left is a fake smile,
To hide all the feelings buried inside.
A smile to ease a bit of the pain,
A smile to keep me sane.
I can't feel no more,
But that's alright,
I can't see no more,
But that's just fine.
Natures doing me a favour,
Keeping me numb for the better,
For how could I have bared the pain,
As it slowly surges through my veins...
The venom it hurts,
I think some can relate.
Love never felt better,
Hurt never has killed a feather.
I shall let the breeze take me off,
As I slowly get myself together,
But maybe I will just do it later.
For now let me fly,
Flown by the cold breeze that carries me,
To a place where there is no-one familiar,
But I don't care,
Maybe it's for the better.
I will just let myself be flown,
Maybe far away from you....
Never to return,
Even as it snows,
Slowly embracing the surrounding cold.
As the curtain draws,
The show is now over,
The feather hasn't fallen,
Still carried by the storm of your letter.
~Fin
The Dead Revolutionary