Obscure Sorrows, Pt.2 [Bonus Track]
on Streaming Services
on Streaming Services
Lyrics:
I realize it is me. Somehow within me I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep cause I know that I must stay awake. And to be awake I must fight. And to be awake I will fight. Verse 4 (said): This is my arena. The crowds of spectators do not measure my battles. The king does not deliver my sentence. The guards do not tease my composure. I am all of them. In the crowds, I see them laid on the grounds- with dust embracing them with the winds of fleeting mortality. I am screaming their name. I want them to get up. They can finish this battle- they are the only one who can win. I run to them gently grasp their bleeding feet, tired ankles, sore limbs, broken heart, glazed eyes, dusted hair- I need them to stand on their feet again. In the grasp of a trembling hand, In the wounds of a bleeding limb, Beyond the cracks of a broken heart, There is a whimper that will never let one fade into dust. The arena roars in silence. Somehow, yet somewhat- I hear a voice. Not in the crowds of an antique show, with its allies and enemies seated aside- I hear the soul's constant cry for purgatory. There is a whimper. I hear a whisper in the corners of a far place. I turn my head to its space- but I cannot find it. I am vanquished and tired. A battle ensues around me, Flaming swords fly past me, While poisonous lies drip off the trees in the battlefield where I spent laying Yet I will not yield defeat. They are mortal, like all their descendants to come. They are meaning, like every soul that enters and exits the stage. They are strength. They are faith. They are past, present, future, and all the moments in between that will reach out to all the souls in lifetimes to come; who share their inner fears of why they exist. Now the world belongs to them They stand and look at the sea No grief in their eyes Neither despair nor fear Bright white shirt Beats the flag in the wind Behind the wave They are smiling It is not clear why We forgot such a feeling This is youthful art Disappearing soon They stand and look into the sea The world belongs to them In the grasp of a trembling hand, In the wounds of a bleeding limb, Beyond the cracks of a broken heart, There is a whimper that will never let one fade into dust. In the grasp of a trembling hand, In the wounds of a bleeding limb, Beyond the cracks of a broken heart, There is a whimper that will never let one fade into dust. I have overcome this instance, And you will too
Story:
This poem is a powerful reflection of an inner struggle and determination to keep fighting. I cannot sleep because I know I must stay awake and fight. This is my arena, and I am all of the spectators, the king, the guards, and the fighters. I see those who have fallen, and I want them to get up and finish the battle. I run to them and gently grasp their feet, ankles, limbs, heart, eyes, and hair, urging them to stand up and fight again. In the midst of the battle, I hear a voice, a whimper, and a whisper, calling for purgatory. I am vanquished and tired, but I will not yield defeat. They are mortal, meaning, strength, faith, past, present, and future.
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