krystel-gracie

I've seen a blind woman Growing cold outside, An older image of Our younger selves. She wears a shard of mirror And a broken sword Screaming "Look at yourself!" She is the scales; she is the statue, She is what we should have always been, But she has long since been replaced by greed. This eternal rain of dust has fallen Down upon the scales, And they're broken, Rusted, and brown... Falling down What gives you the right to Take life away? In the dawning of our darkest hour, Who says what's right? What gives us the right to Take life away? While these images are cutting through A cloudless September sky.