The picture that you have always painted.
You can draw it in your sleep.
Ever so slightly,
Ever so softly.
But just for the better.
But just for the best.
And no one knows.
It's tucked safely inside,
That fold within that beats and thumps within your breast.
Silent, yet screaming as it talks to your hands.
Only to your hands.
Watch those hands.
What makes them move?
what is the secret to the soul that moves those hands.
Those hands that paint the picture.
Rip the human race open,
Peer inside the whole.
Peer inside the hole.
Rip you open.
Look into your soul.
But only for the better.
But only for the best.
Darkness once filled the cavity that beams.
Light after the dark.
Calm after the storm.
Push past the light, im searching for the soul.
I feel the breeze from your chest,
I've drown in the sea.
Watching the trouble to stay afloat..
I've felt it too.
Looking so close i see myself there inside of you.
Buried down deep behind the rocks and rubble.
Interseresting i found myself sitting in that dark soul.
Souls meet at the darkest of spots.
You are in me and i am in you.
Is that the secret to your soul?
What is the secret?
The secret that has moved your hands.
Those gentle hands that paint the picture.
Listen to the sound of silence, watch what it does.
It makes the picture.
The picture you could paint in your sleep.
For it is not the connection but rather the disconnect.
Your hands will move.
The secret is only for your soul to know how to make them.
Secret to your soul.
What is the secret to your soul?