SnapFissure

Through the Panes Like the sky and the sun hide the stars in the day Your eyes merely cover your insides, you say I thought about this, and let the cogs meet Some lesser men would have their feet be fleet But I? No, my interest is too great I would surely leave such things up to fate I listen to pains The hurt behind the panes The glass in the windows of your eyes It walls up your troubles, pretends they are lies Though the frosted portal might deter some I want to wipe away that ice with a ready thumb Give me the chance, and I'd gladly see it all No matter how large the order - or tall You may not know it, for I sometimes am blank Bu

I understand now... You can't bear to land now. You take your time... I'll take mine. Together, we'll fly... Until we combine. Musing... Abusing all of my eloquence. It's all I ever do. I know you don't understand... But I'll give you this. Why shouldn't I? Bonds run warm and deep... So, I'm willing to take this leap. Let's stick together... You and I. Maybe someday... No one will question why.

How do I burn? How do I learn? In the forest... I am a fern. Why do I burn? Why do I yearn? In the forest... I am a fern. What burns me? Who burns me? In the forest... I am a fern. I wonder... If I were a tree... Would they still burn me?

Love is blind. I want a guide dog. Maybe just a walking stick? Anything, please. I beg of you. Just a little help. That'd be great. My heart is complicated. Like a tightly-wound pocket watch. Maybe a spring's loose? A cog misplaced? I know not. Love is blind. I want a guide dog. Maybe just a walking stick? Anything, please. I beg of you. Just a little help. That'd be great. My heart is cold. Like an iceberg free of its glacier. Maybe it's melting? A stranger in a warm place? I know not. Love is blind. I want a guide dog. Maybe just a walking stick? Anything, please. I beg of you. Just a little help. That'd be gre

Depth of thought, Depth of pain, All of it goes around again. Three steps left, Three steps right, There's no getting away tonight. Once or twice, Once or thrice, Picking one's hair clean of lice. Stolen from home, Stolen from frame, The sickest one sees nothing but a game.

Drifting and uplifting... A stream within a dream. If a heart can be torn apart... I think mine has yet to sink. If it slips from one's lips... Perhaps the light is even more bright. Drifting and uplifting... A stream within a dream. If words go unheard... I miss what could be bliss. So I listen, and you may glisten... Wonder drawn asunder by a distant day. Drifting and uplifting... A stream within a dream. It's all a puzzle with a muzzle.