Growing Misery in Soul
Back in time when we were Small,
Rainy roads on the roof,
Giving me of Sadness proof,
Type Staccato on the floor,
Rushing underground to store
Thoughts that mustn't be allowed
Or written or read aloud.
Shadowed smile shines through the chest,
But, you know, all Fires need rest.
Emptiness is bleeding through
From these covert Sins of true
Sraightness, biting every Heart,
Selfishness, making you smart,
Jealosy, which's lost the sign,
And the Love in bitter wine.
You exactly know what is
the main Cure for this Disease,
When we're all too weak to ask
Question to the Beasty mask,
We've got used to hear its 'Breathe!'
On the way somewhere Beneath...