Those stormy feelings is born within your chest, where restless emotions are sometimes bias, it is not just the lightning that fiercely splits the air in the blinding might, the restless clouds that forms
Those stormy feelings is born within your chest, where restless emotions are sometimes bias, it is not just the world beyond that truly shakes the peace but the weight of your own mind’s reply
Those stormy feelings is born within your chest, where restless emotions are sometimes bias, a careless word is like a bitter glance from a moment where your heart and mind collides endlessly…
No kind of wound can last but that of which your mind allows itself to find, your voice might rise and your hand might strike but the world may turn you to be unkind and cold
No kind of wound can last but that of which your mind allows itself to find, but none of these can touch your soul unless you let them take their hold on your breathe, your mind and your body
No kind of wound can last but that of which your mind allows itself to find, the pain of this passing sting will fade like stories left untold, they seek the wound from that twist of a malice…
The fire from the inside fades when you decide to leave the flames denied, what if I just let pass the moment and left no room for those needless pain that lingers in my heart again and again
The fire from the inside fades when you decide to leave the flames denied, at a glance, at a word, at a glance their weight is in your choice to bear, if you could decide not to let them win and let them decide
The fire from the inside fades when you decide to leave the flames denied, shall I make this mountain of emotions freeze me, or just let them scatter in the air of uncontrolled pressure…
The master’s throne is claimed by those who choose to rise, but I alone will shape my path and claim the wisdom of the wise where no kind of power can hold my heart in chains unless I choose peace
The master’s throne is claimed by those who choose to rise, no need to label pain in pain, or call offense to your fate or doom your own world that will swept away by rising tides of fleeting gloom
The master’s throne is claimed by those who choose to rise, for peace is not just a gift but a truest strength in a vowed manner of discipline not to swear in chains of rage nor bind yourself to every sorrow’s call burdened by everything else but in stillness only peace shall stand tall…
In algae we’ll soon learn time dissolves in the weight of my woe
I grant this fleeting hour with power that years won’t even know
The things that I thought are mountains tall have faded easily like shifting lands
So why should I let sorrow stay when time will take it from my hand
