We follow the steps of our past's broken minds only to just discover all that we know is our life is a road made of fake blood and pure wind.
Time makes life throw us sudden desires to go away. Let's walk on transparent streets over temperamental ideals. I will exile this pessimistic approach for all I know my life is a flare. Better to set off than rust. (written: 2011)
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My heart is a drifter and these words are feelings that snowflakes cover while the year is packing.
They say the illusions that we have of what might be left still breathe there. Your heart is a mystery but does not know that a lonely spirit cannot find its freedom when the illusion that you have of what might be left still breathes there. All that we love are moments of distant ideas. All that we need is just an illusion to breathe. I will be finding you on the highest bridges although the leaves have fallen since September. And the illusion that I have of what might be left still breathes there. And all the voices that we hear in silence; hidden images in shades of dark green. They are illusions that we have of what is left for us to still love. I invite the past to loom and there is nothing to embrace. As you are an illusion too, and what is left for me is to breathe it out. (written: 2010) Gates of desires in my forest of fears.
The shadows are coming down again. My foggy emotions are searching to feel. Walking deeper into the tall humming trees. I cannot realise I am somehow moving forward. My eyes are shut. I know I cannot find you here. This is my world of desperation. All gates are closed. I cannot rest. I sink deeper again. Running away, running away from you. But I always end up facing a wooden gate again. You do not want to let me in. I cannot seperate this world from the current harsh reality. So I dance with the shadows. In the emotional melody of your remembering breath. In the music improvisation of your inner self. For a final release of complicated thinking. To the beautiful memory that will always remain. I drink from this river. Take me back to the start of the circle. Because this gate is half open and will never shut nor welcome me. I am falling into the soft colourless grass again. But the shadows are not tired of dancing yet. I sink in surrounded. Dizzeness. I cannot help but fall asleep. The next day a brown leaf appeared as the sudden rain washed down her own sorrows and woke me up. (written: 2008) Black cats are running.
Running in your head. You chase your fears. Don't let them slip away. We can't forget about them. They're still waiting for you. This is a middle state of mind, I know it's not exciting. There is no inspiration to release. And if you have to follow these dreams then I must accept it. And if you have to follow your cats then I need to feel that I can hurt you. Black cats are running. Running in your head. But did you notice? They all slipped away. It's not that I forgot about you. I'm just not waiting for you. Black cats are running, running in your head. You want to hide them, they all slipped away. (written: 2007) And that is how you became a ghost in a moment that passed like a year.
The big question marks are still hanging from my ceiling. I have fallen down. How did I get up to here? I don't know. How do I get out of here? I don't know. Come back and write on my wall. And I'll leave the rusty questions alone. I'll still be there for you to lay on, to use, to rest your soul. (written: 2010) Follow the ideal escape from fear and trick obscurity with absolution in faith to disguise the distance and appear dressed up for any judgement day.
All these years I came to find that this life is just a game. All these years I came to see that in this life I am a dream. I feel there is no God and no religion, no purpose, no eternity. And I've dealt with death and his emotions enough to know I will go back to nothing again. You kneel down for misunderstood ideals. Above. You hide beyond infinity. (written: 2009) The moon was asking to be remembered yesterday. That’s how I got fooled and asked to meet you again. So in this world full of strangers could I dare to admit I miss you?
But bitterness came back to remind me not to forget. I will not run after you. Because I never wanted to have you. I never asked to know you. Although I dreamt to explore you. The hurt poet puts on his pride and walks away from the illogical scenery of absence. And he believes it all makes sense in a funny way, so he sings a little thought he had: ‘But don’t we all look for the exit in the labyrinth of our soul?’ Over the valleys I try to get away from the moments that hunt me. I want to find myself. As I’m taking the usual road back to reality I’m sure I have not quite solved this mystery yet. I know I’ll be back in my imaginary shadow that lays a veil and covers me from the world. I will not look for you. Because I never wanted to have you. I never asked to know you. Although I dreamt to explore you. The wounded poet wears his ironic mask and laughs at the still painful past that made him realise honesty and sarcasm like to play together, so he sings a little thought he had: ‘But don’t we all look for the exit in the labyrinth of our soul?’ Over the valleys I die and I’m born again. I need to find myself. Over the valleys I die and I’m born again. And I’ll have seen all that had to be seen And I’ll have done all that had to be done. The sad poet will try to trap another unfulfilled love in his magical web of dreams. But before I attempt to convert you into a memory, could I ask to see you again? I’d tell you a story of a little thought I had: ‘You look for the exit in the labyrinth of your soul’. Over the valleys I die and I’m born again. I need to find myself. (written 2007) I will welcome you in my magic world soon. And I want to walk on the dark side of your mystery, of your soul.
Do you wish to stay? She put the letter in a black envelope, leaving nothing but the trace of her name on it and threw it under the door. Melodic words dancing in her head: ΄΄Do you wish to stay?΄΄ She went for a long walk imagining how much more beautiful this magic world would become if he was a part of it. Melodic words dancing in her head: ΄΄Do you wish to stay?΄΄ Live as beautifully as you can this life, whichever path you choose to follow. You can even kill the structure of societies to manage it. She smiled and whispered: ΄΄You’re a good liar but so am I!’’ You see, I talked to a friend. She said she can’t be there whenever I need her, but we can drink coffee once in a while, talk about our lives. She’ll smile and say: ΄΄So glad to see you, I have missed you!΄΄ And all we do is fail ourselves and hurt God because we’ve never even seen true love in this true world. Misery. It doesn’t matter anymore. I always knew what the answer was. Do you wish to stay? I’m alone. I hope to find love sometime. I’d like to fall in love with it. (written 2002) A teardrop falls on a love letter that is being kept forever to remind us of all the emotions that come back to life.
When we return they come back to life. A hidden piece of heart is being cut from reality knowing that it always belongs to that final place. All the emotions belong to that place. Past I see you’re my companion in this present I choose to be. Past I feel you’re definer of a present I can’t amend, it leads me to you. All my emotions lead me to you. All that belongs leads me. My thoughts immerse in contrast memories. It’s been kept a secret and reminds me of all these emotions that come back to life. When you imagine I come back to life. Past I see you’re my companion in this present I choose to be. Past I feel you’re definer of a present I can’t amend, it leads me to you. All my emotions lead me to you. All that belongs leads me to the emotions that come back to life. When we return they come back to life. A teardrop falls on a love letter wanting to belong returning to life. (written 2008) You don't seem to be in this world.
I don't think I should persist. I doubt that I will see you pretty soon because my time goes fast and yours seems relatively slow! I might not see you again, I might not see you again, but I feel alright Because I don't care if there is a storm tonight or what exists outside my window. I will light a candle and play with my shadow. And as the world carries on existing in the smoke appears a dream I know I will follow. You drift in and out of my life. But there is one question that remains. Why do we remember those who forget? My time goes fast and yours seems relatively slow. (written 2006) |