Back to the North Yorkshire, Where my colors fade from vibrant to sheer, All that left are the ashes from my amorous letter, The sandpaper vine that stems out of my fear, And the rain here felt like it was someone's tears. Think I saw the lights were flickering inside, Is it a person? is it a silhouette, Of my past? Or maybe it just the wandering souls, Of the soldiers that have died, Hopelessly shielding the castle with all their might. No, it was not. It was the wise king with his ambitions, And the devoted queen with her dreams, They stood so tall and proud ruling their country, But not for so long, Not until the extreme winter caged them in a misery. And she watched as their castle besieged, And her loving husband is nowhere to be seen, Drowning in her own insanity, Pierced a dagger to her heart carelessly, "Would this be enough to pay the price, to retrieve the heaven that I built with the love of my life?" Maybe it was, maybe it was not, Because in the middle of
Tell me what to do When all of the places I have travelled to And all the people I cried to Made me realized No one can touch my soul like you do. Tell me what to do When my summer has turned into an endless winter, My days are as empty as the old castles in North Yorkshire, My fingers bleed as I tried to remove the dagger And my insufferable pain turned into anger. But then again Tell me what to do Tell me how not to break my own heart, Tell me how not to hurt myself for wanting something pure For wanting someone to keep me warm When all of these times the only warmth I felt Was when I burned the house that I left. Still, tell me what to do, When the clouds start shifting, No shadow of you nor his, And I can feel my heart stop beating, For the people I loved, for the life that I have lived. -miss white horse