This must be the hero’s dilemma Superman never spoke about……
Nightly conversations elicit scars that bled from your statements
Insane twists, like every card in the air makes white lines on the pavement:
Your Bible fell to a faceless monster residing in the breath of Satan
Your cries for help made me ponder what exactly the “S” on this cape is….
Standing embracing a situation placed in the grim face of shock value
The messenger told of a distant soul that addiction had bound to
Saw chain-to-ankle fusion, distraught by your shackling bruises
Yet talk of white nooses was liked to be thought of as therapeutic
Standing alone was an emotional scar mixed with a demon’s kiss
A fiend for lips broken into a globe born on the sword’s secret tip
A preference rests for a pen to fulfill my insanity’s spoken needs
Then unknowingly as I listen I witness your emotions slowly bleed
Sewing me in disbelief, but still held the light of your prism pleas
That only the blind man sees, maybe he’s best to guide you visually
Through a jaded path of darkness staying illuminated by a white gold
That ignites souls who never see what the sake of staying alive holds
Now an entire question is left balanced on the band of friendship
Sands of tension reveal a powdered malice hands have bled in
A candid mention: “Don’t tell anyone, please help me come back”
How does any Superman respond to something like that?
Now an entire question is left balanced on the band of friendship
Sands of tension reveal a powdered malice hands have bled in
A candid mention: “Don’t tell anyone, please help me come back”
How does any Superman respond to something like that?
This must be the hero’s dilemma Superman never spoke about……
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