Good Morning Heartache

Hush now for I cannot explain

what's to come of me next,

my future tries to sustain 

but it's just another reflex. 

To forget your face I try,

No heart to hold over me

But those spells I cry,

Like the wind I cannot see

those tears, but they dry

down my soul, they're heavy.

So I'll have to go and say goodbye

as these spells are my plenty. 

This moon above shines so bright 

but this light is not my fate,

For it's yours that my dark turns light

and so good morning heartache.

But how good morning when there's no night

and no night, just a revolver going around 

longing for that soft low whisper of sight 

for it's your love I want to surround. 

Your face haunting through my picture house 

these dreams are but memories and I am guilty,

of loving you still but unlovable thereabouts,

is the thrill I seek for every days a mystery,

to forget your face every day I try.

Losing control I'm lost in the darkness

but seeing the light again it's useless,

for it's you, I sigh.

Enveloping the black.

Enveloping the black. 

How does one have such masochistic thoughts,

But yet go on day by day happily?

Some days I feel too numb and get lost

in this light that consumes me entirely.

That light it's turning with my darkness,

Darkness that deserves death and despair,

But like a pharaoh fights for his carcass

Must go on needlessly numbing this nightmare.

My footsteps fall in the rain that secures me

for it is but a disguise for the pain,

That envelops all around but I am in safety. 

As tears frequently fall I must abstain,

For if I selfishly but desperately give in, it wins.

But when this wind doesn't blow 

Forgiveness for my future begins,

Or do I dwell too far below. 

Somebody please bring me down from this ledge,

Looming over me to let go.

I can't, crawling closer chasing that edge

that's extending and encasing below,

Foreshadowing futuristic funerals I can't see,

I won't see, willing myself to go back

and keep going, this game so generously 

grows dangerous, desperately to black.

For when I wake from this sadistic slumber

I am sick of this forgotten forsaken feeling,

Needless to say I am just another number.

My final hours to spend reminiscing, revealing 

before the black blatantly consumes,

Constricts cutting off my light.

For I cannot breathe no one assumes

being in the light but still savagely black, I fight.