BLACK AND WHITE

On-off, the sum of all thought given; a light switch is poor a choice for our soul I'm allowed to answer right or wrong; tell me, then, what gives me power soul? Gardens are planted meant to be beautiful places of solace to lose oneself Colors are not the only thing; all the emotions grown within a flower soul There's an addiction to a certain kind of sadness made by love for hate Sadistic is the warmth given by this brand of furnace; I name it "Devour Soul" All the rest of me is numb, but I can feel your fingertips that used to be in my palm At least I want to believe that when you placed hand upon this granite; my tower soul You want me to look at all existence that way, then I choose time in darkness So when holes are poked in the aspects of light, it is revealed to empower soul Seeing in black and white doesn't apply to tears; for absorbed, they are clear No way to measure weight of them on scales or clock in the unit of per hour soul