The Wind

The Ranks Of The Soldiers of The Shadows

You are in a tunnel of darkness

Where birds with jet back feathers fly

And they tear and rip at your hair

There is an ink stain on your chest

It shifts and grows when you sigh

It shrinks sometimes, its always there

Black silk winds from your stain to their talons

So as they fly, they pull you on

So as you march you chant their song

She wraps her arms across herself

To keep her insides form spilling out

She can feel her skeleton under paper skin

As she sits upon her shelf

She tries and tries to forget about

The dust of her insides she's holding in

She clutches, clutches at her lungs

She's already lost her eyes and tongue

She's lost in what was sung

He is drowning in the sunset

His breath smothered by the clouds

The fire in his brain burns the spiders

Now, to the dusk he must pay his debt

For the relief that he has found

The nerves in his hands turn into fires

And so every sunset he is burning

Lost, until the world stops turning

In our voices, in our yearning

I hide in the pages of a book

In the spaces between the words

I am cocooned, safe in ink

My eyes are marbles, yet I look

At his fire, her bones and your birds

And I just try my best not to sink

Maybe falling is just a test

Maybe falling is just a death

Maybe falling is all there is left

Well, I guess we are the broken

And I guess we will march on

I guess we're the soldiers of the shadows

But I guess, this is all wrong.

(the temptation to link the soldiers of the shadows to the black parade was very strong but I resisted it so I think that means I'm officially no longer emo which is nice)