Fall Silent

Like blind men we grope at textures.
In a world afraid to touch.
We shelter ourselves from danger,
from life which could threaten us.
And then by risking nothing, were risking even more.
So feel, hurt, and bleed.
Its the high road to understanding.
Its the jagged edges, that keep us questions.
Its the jagged edges, that keep us running.
The ones who with eager fingers,
reach arms out, out to caress.
They find that those jagged edges,
which pierced him have finally made him whole.
Its the jagged edges, that keep us questioning.
The jagged edges...
[ War Poetry Lyrics ]