Wheat fields swaying underneath your fingertips Kisses of the soft sun, rays seeping on your skin Oil on canvasses, brushes on mirrors Lines that intertwine, strokes that never do
Fallen clippers, long and tired letters Faded inks, and your fragile fingers Ragged stamps, dirty mail prints Painting melodies with the northern wind
Suffering symbols, suffering hymns Misery at its best, never once thought Keeping up with the rage within Every day you weep, and every day, you tear
How I wish I could've seen Scattered acrylics on your lips Wipe them off, like your insanity Wipe them clean, like your agony
Woe are the daffodils, mourning are the roses Hearing ears with distracted minds Nameless people and their senseless whispers "Yet, you have loved us still"