A tale that doesn't quite warrant it's own telling,
save in certain cliques,
has possibly ended inside one evening,
Candles failing to burn to their wick.
I, who held a dream ever so compelling,
and lost his faith in miracles,
has finnally come to the derailing,
that would have made others hysterical.
Where once an armorless hero rode,
to find no happy ending,
nothing left but this useless load,
and that rusted silver's bending.
It's apparent now, there is no need,
and maybe there's never been.
I may be a fool, but i'll take heed,
I can see that there is no end.
Wonderwalls, lover's, hero's and all,
those words should have never been said
And now comes a prince, who's destined to fall.
my part in this story's been read. |
