Title: Coming Home To Alien Arms
by Chris L from East Yorkshire | in writing, poetry
There's a black moth scraping the sky
Slicing up clouds and batting down planes There's no sunlight blinding our eyes How can we tell that we're not the same
Skin turns pale, blood flows blue
So weak so frail, none of us are shatterproof
There's a black moth scraping the sky
We'll lay in the grass as we all decompose Self confidence turned you blind You can't try to deny this isn't the end that you chose
Skin turns pale, blood turns blue
So weak so frail, none of us are shatterproof
You can scream, you can fight
But everything in life is born to die.
I think these work better as song lyrics. I guess it's about people creating cures for diseases, like cancer. It may prolong life, but in the end we're still going to die, cancer or no cancer.
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