Raise Your Weapons

Remembering our broken truce


Always hear your sorry excuse

It whispers softly in my ear

I feel you in the atmosphere

Haunt my dreams and haunt my sleep

And in the night, I feel you creep.

The way I wish the flames weren’t dead,

How I just want you out of my head.

This mournful plea to just be free

For you to be no part of me.

I’ve lived a little, but mostly a lie.

I don’t want to wish you nearby.