Dear You...

Discussion in 'Fan Poetry' started by RayCaptain, May 6, 2012.

  1. RayCaptain

    RayCaptain Purveyor of High Culture, Aristocrat of the Soul

    Nov 2, 2006
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    In the World, Not of the World
    +421 / 3 / -10
    When you see your lies,
    Through your bloodshot eyes,
    And you hear a voice asking,
    What is that you're masking?

    Is the pain of years gone by,
    Making you lay down to die,
    Burying deep the last ember of hope,
    If you lost it, would you be able to cope?

    Baby, I was sent here by a raven,
    I heard a little girl needed savin',
    From this world so cold,
    From lies they've told...

    And my, heart all yours,
    For the taking of course,
    So, if you feel the need, take it out on me,
    I'll catch you up to speed, so much to see...

    Because I was sent down to say,
    That skies aren't forever bleak, gray,
    Jump right in, both feet down,
    And feel your feet on solid ground...

    Turn your back on the flesh,
    Your soul, it will try to repress,
    When you cry out to your idols, they don't hear,
    And will the world care, when you shed a tear?

    When they ask why, tell them this,
    That love and hope are things you miss,
    And you're coming back home, a place you know,
    Setting your faith in a place that it will grow...

    Everyday that you're alone,
    Someone is ringing that phone,
    Hoping and praying that you pick up,
    To tell you to never ever give up...

    Lay down the shield and sword,
    I'll take them up and fight the world,
    You need something to cling to,
    Something that will get you through...

    Not only that, but so much more,
    During peace time and in the war,
    Now it's now you are realizing,
    This is much more than appetizing...

    They wait for scraps to manifest,
    You're dining on some of the best,
    Now turn it up loud in your head,
    If you run with us, you'll raise the dead...

    Because death is a side-effect of sin,
    Love helps you get back up, start again,
    On the shoulders of giants,
    We are the most defiant...

    Let that evil bass drop out of your soul,
    Make way for a tune that'll make you whole,
    What kind of music you know that does that?
    Stuff from up high, quelling the flames of a gat...

    But it'll start a fire of its own,
    And my how that fire's grown,
    Like a pyre in a forest of dead trees,
    Who knew nails on trees set us free?