Destroyers of this perfect world
of this perfect peace
stomping on those fragile dreams
crushing hopes delicate wings
and burning the ashes

The outward shell confuses you
seeming so strong, so sturdy, so uncaring
but looks, they decieve the eye
those carfully shattered pieces
so precariously put back together
so easily blown over
so close to falling apart
like they have so many times before

The dreams are slowly breaking
hopes are endlessly crushed
carelessly pulled down
needlessly cracked
and now internally bleeding

Stubbornly holding on till the end
porcelin pieces chiping, glass cracking
but still standing
still here
to put back the ever breaking world
of mine