Monday, October 26, 2009
Why do I wield my pen, if I shall only write with weapons?
Why do I try each day, only to dream the night away?
To each his own, but to me - what
lies in my journey's path.
What could it be? What could be so precious?
Why do I try each day, only to dream the night away?
To each his own, but to me - what
lies in my journey's path.
What could it be? What could be so precious?
How are people supposed to live in the present
when all we think about is our future?
How are we supposed to find 'The One'
when we are not even 'The One' 's ourselves?
So leave me, thrust me and kick me away
for I do not deserve any of this - this life you preach.
Return me my soul, my green pastures and my forever spring.
If you could just untie this string called affection,
O how less painful and more wondrous my life could be;
and yet empty.
what we could have been, 7:52 PM.
