Friday, January 18, 2008

the ink on these walls is not a cry for the weak

I'm pacing the four corners of my mind
Impossibility isn't a question we like to raise
but here inside we know these waters
We've sailed them before but we were inexperienced
and now we have a compass leading to desire

We've built empires on quick sands
and promises on hollow words
Too scared to think of tomorrow
We open the closest doors
Expecting a new beginning
Trying to find refuge behind these walls
But we start over where we once began

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