The world looks so much brighter in the soul of an artist.
a heart is so much stronger in the chest of a loner. words
flow out faded from the mouth of a poet. but after it all, an
artists soul is sculpted and painted, to match the colors
everyone wants them to be. a heart of a loner, is a heart
unloved, and eventually will give out and grow weak. the
words from a poet, are only the truth, dying to kill the
oxygen. so, now we sit here and live day after day, when
as soon as we\'re born, we are on the road, to wasting away.
so watch the souls cry, the hearts bleed, and the words die.
we are all on the road to nowhere, and i\'m hoping mine is
awfully short. i\'ve spent my whole life, wishing it would end.
