All I hear is the slow heart beat -
The restless death of what can, what would,
What Could Never Be.
The stiffling cries of someone who bleeds,
Of something that struggles for air,
Lives inside me.
It can't grow without sun light,
It can't find a route of expression.
I'm dying here, slowly,
Like a wild rose trapped in the shade.
Unless these words come out,
Unless these leaves stretch out,
Into the sunshine and sweet rays,
I ain't got no fighting chance.
Find me a passage for expression,
Find me a way to sing my heart to life.
Because if I don't, even if I don't cry,
Just once -
I just may die.
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