Like the croon of a dove
you tell me that it's alright
inspire me to face my inner monsters and demons
light up the once darkened room that is my mind
Now it is something different and extraordinary
where night meets day and the victims are butterflies
where weakness is strength and the dark is nothing but a shadow
Where no one will save us,
but maybe we don't need to be saved
The worst places are the ones that were built, constructed, and paved
The things we were told may cease to be true
The lies may be real, but they may help us heal
The grasses are gold, and the sky doesn't have to be blue