Screams

Millions of screams in my soul, down like the rain they wish to pour, heart open on the floor, wishing they could let out and cry, but the rivers inside have already run dry. All that's left is to wonder why, reaching out to the darkness in the sky, up they rise, up they fly, no matter how much they try, no matter how long the high, in the end always the drowning shadows are the clothes in which they lie.