the crimson tides of days untouched

[farheavens]

The leaden sheet of sky spreads above pained eyes, heavy and oppressive like the guantleted fist of some mythical tyrant, the grey so dreary even the gut-wrenching snap of breaking ribs seems humbled beneath it's easy indifference. Hands vainly grasping towards nothing, towards some imagined glimmering hope of freedom, towards the bronze axe lying

Comments

[tristia]

listening to 'where does the body end' myself;

i saw you kneeling on a desert plateau
your eyes were melting from inside your skull
the wind was burning holes into my skin
where does a body end?

your voice is drifting through the stratosphere
my mouth is drinking from your pool of tears
i saw your heartbeat in the radium screen
what does a body mean?

the future's leaking through a shut lead door
in the ruins of a city under the forest floor
your naked body's buried in a vacant field
what does your body feel now?

the air is black and has no oxygen
the bodies in the river float beneath the sun
transparent skin it shines a light from deep within
where does your body begin?

the stars are hidden by a mirrored sky
and darkness disappears behind reflected light
perception is a distance in a closed-in space
how will your body escape?

the crowd is feeling you inside your head
your imagination's canceled by the opposite
and every possibility's been proved untrue
now is your body you?

.

thank you for today.

[farheavens]

Gira is one of the lyricists who remains a constant reminder that no matter how good I think myself, it's always not quite good enough. His words are radiant.

Thanks for the reminder...I think I'll get some Gira action going on tonight when I get home.

And really...it's my pleasure. It was unloved and forgotten. Now it will be loved and remembered. I see that as a better world.