Take My Hand

Follow 0 fans

Gankhanani & ArchBishop

7:45

2 Views

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!

Take My Hand

Bill Bullard says
Opinion is really the lowest form of human knowledge
It requires no accountability, no understanding
The highest form of knowledge is empathy
For it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another's world
It requires profound purpose larger than the self kind of understanding

Remember the times lost
Remember the names lost
Remember the knowledge drained
Remember the tear that rained
I heard the silent cry
I saw the vibrant die
I saw the hurting eye
I knew I had to try
You were my witness
You beheld my weakness
You strengthened the breathless
You resurrected the lifeless
And now I regretted
And as I reflected
I was reinjected
With the lava of inconsistence
A knowledge so castrated
A triumph to laugh at
A lover so jilted
For a lover unknown
For a scar concealed
Bleeding in a hidden field
A fiend so loved
A friend so unloved
But the same chilling winds
Contented with the cold
Dark, a song so hidden

Come, take my hand
Take my hand
Take my hand and walk the path
Walked by none of this life
Take my hand and walk the path
That flames so orange
And burns of blood
Come, take a walk
Find the hidden path
Come, take a walk
Find the fire in the earth
Watch the leaves swell
And watch the winds whirl
Find the focus of breath
Hidden in the paths of death

The paths are lost
Crisscrossed sounds of silence
Paths of brutality
Lusts bleeding dust
And alas, we are still the hated
The saltless ash
Drained of its fire
And drained of its vitality
Rejuvenating the dying
And re-clustering
Of unclustered lines
Blocks of thoughts
Poeticised by shattered lines
Of wishes, desires, and wishes
Poetry of thoughts thrown into disarray
And regrets tied in one knot
Final knot, single knot
Pain

Come, take my hand
Take my hand
Take my hand and walk the path
Walked by none of this life
Take my hand and walk the path
That flames so orange
And burns of blood
Come, take a walk
Find the hidden path
Come, take a walk
Find the fire in the earth
Watch the leaves swell
And watch the winds whirl
Find the focus of breath
Hidden in the paths of death

There's a stream of milk
And a stream of honey
Both filled with faecal matter
And nauseating the expectations
Of fear, fear
Of the least and famished men
Lines of women and infants
And strings of lean shadows
Short shadows, and long ones
And small feet and bright eyes
Yet, the final song is sung
By the never-ever-victorious victors
For their names and shames
Shamed by inexistence and a void
A void to avoid the same saneness
Until finally, they wish it had happened
Had it happened
In the void
In the darkness
In nothingness
And nothing is bred in it all

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer