Dark Tranquillity

what late forgotten nights to emptiness has given
and now november morning will be taken asunder
the shovel stained with dirt in the hours of belonging
dug into the undiscovered of a life, a pest, a plague
falling back into the arms - no never
admitting to a life alone - no
claiming there are sparks inside - no
outside looking back - no
so the lie never stopped
cling to the wave it cried and onward to the night
expecting not and nothing in the presence of a lie
the deeper that it dug the more now had to go
surrender was a fact and the room was decoreated
- the lie never stopped
what late forgotten nights to emptiness has given
the strangers may they come in ignorance's disguise