When the fog lifts
I can see his scars.
Greys and blacks and blues,
silver shadows staining skin.
There is no sun,
not in these skies.
There are no smiles,
not on these lips.
There is no hope,
not for this life.
What will happen when the glass drops?
When its beauty shatters,
and every piece glitters in the sunlight.
Every shard worth nothing.
Nothing can save me.
Him.
Nothing can save me.
I can see his scars.
Greys and blacks and blues,
silver shadows staining skin.
There is no sun,
not in these skies.
There are no smiles,
not on these lips.
There is no hope,
not for this life.
What will happen when the glass drops?
When its beauty shatters,
and every piece glitters in the sunlight.
Every shard worth nothing.
Nothing can save me.
Him.
Nothing can save me.