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No longer rejoicing
All I want is peace.
That my words to you are music.
You say that my statements clash?
That they are opposing?
You, with lips of crimson,
Solemnly rejoicing.
Even though I was rejoicing.
I thought I could lead you to peace,
To help turn crimson into white,
But my words are just distasteful music.
My words opposing?
It seems we are at a clash.
Our first clash.
You are not rejoicing.
For what I write is opposing.
I just want peace.
To again hear sweet music.
To see the sun set, and the sky crimson.
To once again dance with a dress of crimson,
But we clash.
Like misplayed notes in music.
There is no rejoicing.
There is for this soul, no peace.
Our forces opposing.
Our chemistry opposing.
How your words cut me as blood stains my skin crimson.
How your words give me no peace.
Like swords they clash.
For it feels the angels are no longer rejoicing.
There is no music.
An empty void, and in my heart, no music.
For we are two souls opposing.
No longer together, rejoicing.
A heart once vibrant crimson,
Is now black. We clash.
Will we ever again find peace?
No longer is there peace in music.
Our words clash. We are opposing.
Here I lay in a puddle of crimson. No longer rejoicing.
