Hope: Will to Live
Like dry bones, we await our rising as the sun shines,
as the stars blink in their billions, their proximity in the heart gives us signs.
We are caught in nihilism, as the echoes of our cries run back to us without substances.
We hold liquid realities in dreams and trances.
Like wheels within wheels, every bit in this our every dark existence,
like gasping of breath, we desperately seek essence.
even as victims of collided universes.
Our wills to live are the ignition of lines and verses.
We pant for reality like horses desperate for water,
for we live in a collapsed world, once prosper.
Swallowed by perversion;
waiting like snipers for the rising sun.
After all, hope makes not the hopeful a shame
We heard the sound and identified the name
Therefore...
We open the layers of our cold hearts, plunging our sensational souls to ethereal sounds,
we dance to the music of angels, igniting the darker dead minds.
Lyrics of the celestials, stringing lines of illuminations,
the melody of the high heavens is like the fragrance of the sun.
Like pure gold, we are refined with worship:
the healing; of Spirit to Spirit fellowship.
Hope is the Oasis in our hopeless wilderness;
We drink from her, to regain consciousness
We wield power for a recompose existence,
and the light awakens our essence.
© Charisma
as the stars blink in their billions, their proximity in the heart gives us signs.
We are caught in nihilism, as the echoes of our cries run back to us without substances.
We hold liquid realities in dreams and trances.
Like wheels within wheels, every bit in this our every dark existence,
like gasping of breath, we desperately seek essence.
even as victims of collided universes.
Our wills to live are the ignition of lines and verses.
We pant for reality like horses desperate for water,
for we live in a collapsed world, once prosper.
Swallowed by perversion;
waiting like snipers for the rising sun.
After all, hope makes not the hopeful a shame
We heard the sound and identified the name
Therefore...
We open the layers of our cold hearts, plunging our sensational souls to ethereal sounds,
we dance to the music of angels, igniting the darker dead minds.
Lyrics of the celestials, stringing lines of illuminations,
the melody of the high heavens is like the fragrance of the sun.
Like pure gold, we are refined with worship:
the healing; of Spirit to Spirit fellowship.
Hope is the Oasis in our hopeless wilderness;
We drink from her, to regain consciousness
We wield power for a recompose existence,
and the light awakens our essence.
© Charisma