Disembodied

Anvil Chandelier

Disembodied


The passing hours of life 
numb the pain of the pounding fists of consequence swelling on my skin 
the festering wounds of desire I have yet to obtain 
makes it hard to see the truth yet still I strain 
the faint promise of a future and thins 
I never had lies fed where I was still pondering 
the youth stolen from me and now i relize all i could have had
and now you tell me all i could have had
and now you give me all i could have had
but i dont want it anymore
I don't want it anymore
I don't need it anymore 
No more hope just closed doors 
and as we walk into oblivion
every step is a reminder of passing hours 
of passing days 
of passing lives
of passing away