Post by ScarletMornings on Nov 16, 2005 14:53:38 GMT -8
If I forgot you
would you care?
does it even matter if I feel
if I love
if I walked away from every good memory?
are they even memories to you?
or did they just slip away?
scattered to the four corners by your apathy?
indifference
it’s happened so many times
I wonder if there are little piles of broken hearts
lost in the desolation of places unreachable
except to those who climb mountains
and conquer countries
who use them to plant their flags in, proudly waving
the kind of people who send them there
I stood in the rain
are the angels crying?
trying to wash away
to soothe
those crumbled pieces
of passion, of dreams
to even out the terrain
so the little mounds,
odes to another love story gone wrong,
won’t stand bitter testimony to the disillusion of it all?
but why do they bother?
the only ones who see it are the conquerors who sent them there
it’s not like they ever cared in the first place
don’t you see the pretty flags flying in another breeze of coming pain?
Are the deserts all the ashes of loves?
huge, shifting, timeless dunes
hearts turned to sand after so long without
water
love
aren’t they the same to the heart?
so very essential
devoid of, we’re just dust in the wind
so many grains of nothing
except an annoyance that gets in your eyes and makes them water
stinging reminders of the tears they all cried
so long ago
so soon ago
cover your face
here comes a dust storm, a sand storm, a wind storm
of broken hearts
of disillusion
blown in by the conquerors of the lands they made
and the lands they broke
I see the foreshadows everywhere
can almost hear the flags snapping in the breeze
here they come again
would you care?
does it even matter if I feel
if I love
if I walked away from every good memory?
are they even memories to you?
or did they just slip away?
scattered to the four corners by your apathy?
indifference
it’s happened so many times
I wonder if there are little piles of broken hearts
lost in the desolation of places unreachable
except to those who climb mountains
and conquer countries
who use them to plant their flags in, proudly waving
the kind of people who send them there
I stood in the rain
are the angels crying?
trying to wash away
to soothe
those crumbled pieces
of passion, of dreams
to even out the terrain
so the little mounds,
odes to another love story gone wrong,
won’t stand bitter testimony to the disillusion of it all?
but why do they bother?
the only ones who see it are the conquerors who sent them there
it’s not like they ever cared in the first place
don’t you see the pretty flags flying in another breeze of coming pain?
Are the deserts all the ashes of loves?
huge, shifting, timeless dunes
hearts turned to sand after so long without
water
love
aren’t they the same to the heart?
so very essential
devoid of, we’re just dust in the wind
so many grains of nothing
except an annoyance that gets in your eyes and makes them water
stinging reminders of the tears they all cried
so long ago
so soon ago
cover your face
here comes a dust storm, a sand storm, a wind storm
of broken hearts
of disillusion
blown in by the conquerors of the lands they made
and the lands they broke
I see the foreshadows everywhere
can almost hear the flags snapping in the breeze
here they come again
