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Darla Farmer
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Sweet Wires (Of Fire)
A struggle began
With the tug of a wire
There wasn't a plan
Just a will to conspire
A spine was revealed
But it was crippled by time
its definition concealed
By the weight of the crime
The waters were churning
While the fields
Were being bought and sold
God was on the market
Everybody called their god gold
But black was the way
Of the apocalyptic force
That cause and gave Towards
A mans internal divorce
The archaic man cried
From the bottom of his grave
Because his prevalence self
Had stolen his face and his name
Revelation had begun
with the undermining of the skies
A song could not be sung
Under the shadow of a lie
The separation of the dark
From his former lover light
Ignited a powerful spark
And incited a violent riot
The fields were smoking
But the people just didn't care
While the fired were smoked
No one noticed the smoke in the air
And the fires were burning
with the rage of my lungs
From some incessant yearning
For the song to be sung
But while the verses were scattered
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The melody was undone
By the fire that had burned
My face from the sun
A caravan for a casket
Held a dead apology
That was covered by a mask
That was disguising sympathy
A sonsul tant to a craftsman
Nursed a suffocating dream
That was drowning in a wave
Of circumstantial gleam
A prelude to an action
Was the forward of a thought
Lying in a deathbed
That common man forgot
A sound has come forth
From the ghost of desire
I've heard the sound before
From the dream of a liar
A prelude to a position
In a moment in time
Has aligned with the source
Of the original crime
The fields were burning
But the people just sat and stared
By the glow of the fire
They all cried
Because they were not prepared
Now the was has crested
And it's beginning to break
with the intentions to rectify
All their former mistakes
And if the force of the wave
Ever reaches the shore
Then the power of the wave
Will be far to hard to ignore
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