Iβm a slow dying flower, frost killing hour, the sweet turning sour and untouchable and after everythingβs done and iβm all undone. Dancing slowly in an empty room, can the lonely take the place of you. Why do you try to make me better than the divine? Iβve been sacrificed, my heartβs been cauterized. Iiβve had enough, iβve had it all, but iβm still here standing, iβm here for the rise and the fall. Once i was sweet, i didnβt know βtill i lost it along the way. Iβm sick of being your altar. You canβt have the peace youβre looking for without a fight and all in spite of you, iβm still breathing. I have lost many things, so many, i wonβt turn back. I call myself survivor but i did more than just not die, maybe the ashes made the phoenix, maybe the fall brings the rise. (πππ ππ πππ ππππ ππππππππ πππππππ ππ π΅ππ πΆππππππ, πππ π ππππππ π πππ πππ π - πππππ πππ ππ π ππππππππ πππππ πππ ππ π ππππ πππππ, πππ ππππ ππππ π πππππ πππ ππππ πππππππ ,πππ πππ π ππππππ ππππππππππ ππ ππππ π ππππππ , π ππππ πππππππ β¬ ππππ ππππ πππ πππ π πππ πππππππ ππππ πππ πππππ)
