Look at me,
see my pain,
carved into my heart,
by your love.
The beat like a drum,
the rythmatic pound of your fist,
I want to let you in,
but you're gone.
Running through the walls,
Running through your arms,
Running through your heart,
Chilling your bones,
the ghost of your love;
Forget me Love,
I am nothing compared to you.
So I'll go,
and beat my drum,
the drum of my heart,
and beat the rhyme you beat for me,
and I'll march on.
March on.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 12:28am on Nov 19, 2024 via server WEBX1.