All of my bridges burned,
Some I tried to save,
Some I torched myself,
And some I never forgave.
All the tables turned,
Some I could foresee,
Some I didn't want to forego,
Suddenly there was no longer place for me.
They didn't use guns,
They didn't use swords,
And there's no use mending such utterly broken roads ,
They don't need props, they own a viscous tongue,
Their sentence is incomplete but here I am, already stung.
Although there are few who talk so beautifully,
It's like music to my heart, like getting rocked to sleep gently,
I've trained my mind to not be fooled,
But how to train my heart which refuses to be schooled?
If they hurt me, i am ready to hurt them back,
I'll dig old wounds, I am prepared to attack,
It's because I want them to feel this pain,
That they inflict upon me with a tongue so vain.
It's not that I, myself,am destined for heaven,
I am a sinner,I know,one day hell will be my den,
We sin differently, the difference lies there,
My eyes feel heavy, but I no longer shed a tear.
The shedload of feelings they make me feel,
Sometimes bowing to me,the next moment making me kneel,
One day it's the smell of roses, one day it's like rotten breath,
One day i want to live, then suddenly I am inviting death..
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