The Echoing Green Blind

Staring in the face of fallacy Stepping on the glass of serenity Sleeping in the arms of irony... I find you. You taste the crime And slowly remind me Of times when the "light" Was blinding to me And the glow is getting bright... But it's not light. Sipping from the cup of tragedy Entangled in the web of vanity While spitting in the face of sanity... I find you. The peace in your mind Is deceptive by design The pride behind your eyes Is blinding And the glow is getting white... But it's not light It's the daylight breaking down In your mind As the darkness tells its solitary lie It's not light It's not light It's not the light That's blinding