Verus

I can almost remember... Taste it in the lyrics falling from your lips. Oh, and what a fragile thing it is... We hold together memories threads of the past. Within brittle frames of mind. Echoing off paper walls caged somewhere inside. And you've never been completely sure... What's a rose reborn of sand from what's an hourglass that's tipped. But there's a taste within your words... Like the broken webs of fairy-tales burning into dust. And if it's in your eyes it's dark... But there's unwilling acceptance in the coming of a storm. How can you fight the war... When insight is as forbidden as the fruit?