| Death is promised to the bee
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| Who’s sting protects the colony.
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| Was its life worth nothing more
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| Than honey for the queen?
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| Life is a branch and it is a dove,
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| Handcrafted by confusing love.
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| Sign language is our reply,
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| When church bells make no sound.
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| In hollow towers and empty hives,
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| We craved sweetness with a fear of heights.
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| Was it all just a grain of sand
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| In an hourglass?
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| The smartest thing i’ve ever learned
|
| Is that i don’t have all the answers,
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| Just a little light to call my own.
|
| Though it pales in comparison
|
| To the overarching shadows,
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| A speck of light can reignite the sun
|
| And swallow darkness whole.
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| Death is a cold, blindfolded kiss.
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| It is the finger pressed upon our lips.
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| It puts an unwanted emphasis
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| On how we should have lived.
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| Life is a gorgeous, broken gift.
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| Six billion+ pieces waiting to be fixed.
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| Love letters that were never signed,
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| Sent to where we live.
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| But the sweetest thing i’ve ever heard
|
| Is that i don’t have to have the answers,
|
| Just a little light to call my own.
|
| Though it pales in comparison
|
| To the overarching shadows,
|
| A speck of light can reignite the sun
|
| And swallow darkness whole. |