The years of tears,
I was so unwilling to let go of,
Have finally flooded the gates of Crimson,
I know not the cause or the reason,
all I know..is hurt is abundant,
Melencholy words pass through,
One ear not to come out the other,
but to remain, replaying in sad repitition,
The emotional hurt now bleeds to the surface,
I must release my sorrow, with a quick slash,
One small stream of pain,
Realeased from a vein of Crimson,
my thin line between the beauty of insanity,
is on the brink of becoming, something perhaps sane.
I speak these words in attempt to vent, but I know there spoken in vain.
Once Dry Tears
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