He Didn't Write for You
He didn't write for you.
He didn't write for me.
He wrote for all to view
And hopes that no one see.
The little Sparkle mare
Could only wish to hide
From friends who wish to scare
Her from harmonious ride.
The lav'nder strip of mane,
Which hid among the black,
Now keeps her heart most sane.
And wants her friendship back.
The dark shell blocks the strip,
For fear of finding friends.
But fighting black's green grip,
A crooked horn extends.
Insectoid shell of fear
Replaced the coat and mane.
No lav'nder strip is here.
We'll see it in the past;
He wrote it down for none.
Let's light it to the last
Wings Below
Falling
Without Faith
Focus
Losing
I must keep flapping
My dead wings, Dashie.
My old pow'r tapping
Is now too sickly.
Deep in th'Abyss I cannot stave the crash.
Red is now dripping from feathers of mine.
Stay at the top with the pegasi, Dash.
Stay in the Factory, Rainbow, and live.
