GunmetalI got my first real six string.
Played it 'til my fingers turned to bone.
Everything after that
Mama always told me,
to "don't ever stop believin'."
I kept at it that summer,
I found some mates,
who loved the whole band idea.
The search was over,
and there we were.
I begged to dream and differ,
and our first gig came a year later,
and that was the dawning of the rest
of our lives.
We played out our souls,
when I saw one, no, twenty-one guns.
But through the fire and the pain,
I still needed fame.
I staggered from the scene,
feeling the shame for those who died.
All I was seeing was red,
as they put a pistol to my head.
"Summer has come and passed.
One small year had gone too fast."
But I didn't wake up when September ended.
I didn't wake up at all.
And for the last three minutes of my life,
I would remember the final gunshot forever.
TaupeThe flames clear,
but the fear stays.
Awakening my every move.
But despite the adrenaline,
awakening and focusing me.
A being pulls me into slumber.
A voice like slate against blade,
he scratches at me.
And my lungs begin to burn.
The clouds ambush the sky,
and the black figure closes in.
An outstretched hand appears.
The clouds suffocate,
The cold hand whispers to me.
The smoke fills my eyes,
lungs, and every being.
Threatening to overflow.
In the darkness of fog,
I breathe before finally letting go.
MaroonNothing is more painful to hear than the cries of motherless children,
and childless parents
and endless tears falling to the ground like rain.
Nothing tastes more distasteful than the bitterness in the air,
as the impact of real life finally hits you
a bit too hard.
Nothing feels worse than grief and despair for loved ones passed,
and you're the one left behind
to feel it all alone.
Nothing smells worse than the aftermath of a tragedy,
when metallic fumes of blood
and fire stings at the nose.
Nothing you see will ever cover up,
the intense disaster on pavement.
filling the air
as if it didn't weigh more
than life itself.