As we watch, the fall of who we are,
slowly dying, to a place so far.
Will death claim you, crawling back to the silence,
for never again, to see your own violence.
Turn back now, or be forgotten forever,
can you make the stand, to never surrender.
With your soul broken, your price is promises,
for the blood you spilled, paying no provinces.
Are you dying inside, will he believe your lies,
could you rise up from the dark, from all the cries.
Your broken heart is dead, will there be any redemption,
as you weep and burn, you wait for preemption.
Copyright © john aaron green | Year Posted 2011
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