Your painted memories washed out all the seas, I'm stuck in between I nightmare and lost dreams
How do you know when it's over? When you draw your last breath and go to heaven or in some cases hell, how do you know what will sing you the song of final freedom when you are no longer hateful and cruel, when that person who saved you cries a river of tears? I don't know. But it burns. It burns when you feel the tears against your skin. Those strong arms still never weakening but shaking because he thinks you won't survive. And you don't know what to think. You don't want to wake up. But you want to wake up. And that's why you realize. Someone loves you.
"Don't leave me."
There is always pain in your eyes. But you can't help but want to see what's happening.