Old bones

I see you and the sword you bring to slay me with, I know your eyes, your screams, they follow me from the mirror.
I have carried you for far to long,,,your whispers of lies have tormented me in the desert, leaded me to a wasteland.
My scars remind me of the days you wounded my soul, robbed me of love and light.

Its time for you to go,,,to go where old bones are crushed and turned into dust. No longer will I hear your voice or see your face,

I spoke to the angel on the bench by the pond, she pointed you out to me, told me about your lies, she told me a story about the man who suffered on the hilltop,,,,,,she said he really didnt need to go up there....she said that Old bones need to be crushed and turned into dust.