Shards of glasses have your broken images

Sounds of smashes, cries for crashes,

The blood drips down to the flooring

over your doorway and footprints.

You moan and groan in grave disbelief.

There was a sigh and many screams

Filling your time and space, eating

Your brain and the last bit of sanity.

Everything's gone but your misery.

Oh the pieces and shards have fallen

Before what have you saddened.

You knock on whatever has you beaten,

But only to hurt yourself with .

So mourn and cry, let the tears fly.

But they worth nothing before the lies

That is told to you when the tears dry.

Then you listen, you believe, you try

To restore them glass shards, the pieces

Back together like your broken memories.

But they stab when you reattach the glasses,

And all you see is your own broken images.