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Bloom
Of Mice And Men
Echo
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We were born to bloom,
Destined to deteriorate.
No beauty in plastic flowers,
No honey made from fake bouquets.
We were born to bloom,
But we were never meant to stay.
No wine from fruit made out of wax.
No honey made from fake bouquets.
What do they say
about apples and trees?
How do you grow when you're severed
from the roots underneath?
And if the tether of love
can never truly break,
Did it slip from my hands
the day you went away?
Why do they speak about a love
that never dies?
And what the fuck do they know
about the afterlife?
Have they ever spent the night
screaming at the sky, asking why?
We were born to bloom,
Destined to deteriorate.
No beauty in plastic flowers,
No honey made from fake bouquets.
We were born to bloom,
But we were never meant to stay.
No wine from fruit made out of wax.
No honey made from fake bouquets.
What do they say about
the heart and it's strength?
What do you do when your love
rots to into rage?
How do you water the garden
that famine takes?
How do you feed your soul
with dust and clay?
We blossom then wither like the rose.
Death written into
our blood like poems.
A soliloquy of ancient ancestral pain,
The price of love paid
over and over again.
We were born to bloom,
Destined to deteriorate.
No beauty in plastic flowers,
No honey made from fake bouquets.
We were born to bloom,
But we were never meant to stay.
No wine from fruit made out of wax.
No honey made from fake bouquets.
Love is watching the petals fall.
Love is watching the petals fall.
Love is watching the petals fall.
Love is watching the petals fall.
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