Friday, January 29, 2016

Bleed

What does one do when one reaches work and has absolutely no mood to do anything productive but have tonnes to do? Why they write a song ofcourse! Someone once told me that writing songs is like poetry...it needs to have structure...and flow from the heart - whether it makes sense or not is secondary. I stopped listening post poetry and figured hey lets give this a go...

Once there was a girl,
with a heart made of gold.
She loved in abundance,
but truth be fortold...

Never in her wildest of dreams
did she ever think she would...

Bleed from the heart,
bleed through the stains.
Bleed for what was 
and whatever remains...

Her world was a fairytale,
with a Prince in her dreams,
Who'd lift her up the castle stairs,
reality's not what it seems...

Never in her wildest of dreams
did she ever think she would...

Bleed from the heart,
bleed through the stains.
Bleed for her great escape
right through the chains...

The dream shattered around her,
like a stone hit the glass.
Shards pierced her golden heart,
and turned it to brass...

Never in her wildest of dreams
did she ever think she would...

Bleed from the heart,
bleed through the stains.
Bleed to sail her small boat
against hurricanes...

For loving's never easy she knew,
You give it all and not expect to receive.
For when loving's one sided,
there's a heart that will grieve.

Never in her wildest of dreams
did she ever think she would...

Bleed from the heart,
bleed through the stains.
Bleed for what was 
and whatever remains...



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