Reflected in Black and White

When the moon rises above
and the shadows whisper into the light,
when the dawn's embrace comes to grace the night,
that's when my heart'll finally reach it's melting point.

There's nothing one can do to salvage
anyone's heart, to save it; to brave it out is enough.
Its hard to belive, it's hard to breath
and then you slowly begin to relize that nothing's
relected in black and white alone.

Slippery, silent fucking, itch,
there's nothing to keep you happy,
and I havent had enough of it yet.

You rave and rant and cry and feel sorry for youself.
But on those days and nights when
your words and ways of acting, cut into someone else,
you raise a blind eye to it, and assume that its alright.

Your eyes shimmer upon the path laid in front you,
but you refuse to look up until it bites you in the nose.
The last time the day fucked with night....
was when the last volcanic erruption exploded.

To keep yourself down, to keep yourself in
a state of isolated pain, you force incidents to happen.
All the things you think you do that don't matter and in the end,
you find yourself suffering.

Well how the in the name of bloody fucking hell,
do you explain the misery inflicted upon others.
Its ristricting and binding and in the light of things,
no one can exist but you.

In a world that's hidden inside,
you remain hidden to what's happening on the outside.
A raging inferno trapped in a bottle, willing myself not to speak
to avoid becoming a ranting, raving bitch.

You darken your eyes to the world around you,
and act like you have no clue,
when it all caves in on top.
Seeking blame and solice in another,
you search for sympathy and expect everything to
fall in for you.

As I fight with myself to keep sane,
i strive to keep another the same.
Slipping sliding, breathing of noxious air,
I can feel these fucking horrors rip me from the inside out.

You seek to destroy the bindings that hold
your support systems together
and take them for granted when they're there.
But when they're not then it's time for you
to fall on your knees and wallow in your sorrow.

A broken butterfly falls apart infront of you,
but attempts to salavge itself for you.
You fuck with it's heart and eat its sorrow
when you know that its doing its best to save you.

But should that butterful waver in its undying loyalty to you,
you crumble and fall, despite the overwhelming evidence
of your neglect, disregard and integrity of the butterfly.

Your eyes shimmer upon the path laid in front you,
but you refuse to look up until it bites you in the nose.
The last time the day fucked with night....
was when the last volcanic erruption exploded.

You rave and rant and cry and feel sorry for youself.
But on those days and nights when
your words and ways of acting cut into someone else,
you raise a blind eye to it, and assume that its alright.