Epiclore

Cold

Epiclore


Lying here in the cold 
crumbled and trampled over 
Blinding fear, a dismal life alone 
May it hurt, truth be told 
Uncertain, discontented 
Fears convert into pain 

When the world grows cold around you 
a sense of nothingness that ails your soul 
can turn into sorrow and despair 
Dreaming 
In the haze our mind blends into 
a state of unison is all we know 
a garden of Eden we can share 
when the world grows cold 

Hanging on to one hope 
I can repress no longer 
Waiting for a sign of some response 
Even though worlds apart 
may be meant to stay asunder 
Can't let go 
Have to try 

When the world grows cold around you 
a sense of nothingness that ails your soul 
can turn into sorrow and despair 
Dreaming 
In the haze our mind blends into 
a state of unison is all we know 
a garden of Eden we can share 
when the world grows cold