Mortal Smoke1 min 469 1 min 469
Caught in the fiery ambers of life
It takes enough out of me, just to survive.
Walking on the edge of Death’s knife
It hardly feels that I am alive.
Where there is smoke
There is, not always fire.
Is there a life
If there is no desire.
And this is what makes us wrong
Trials don’t always make us strong.
My Corpse lives, barely alive
Intimate with pain, the treacherous slive.
Life cries with me
And death calls me a liar.
Like the stubborn last breath of a mortal
Smoke rises from the ashes of my fire.