And it still amazes me to no extent when you know it and you don't...

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Now it's all blue...

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Fascinating how a breeze of wind can wind up your entire path.

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Words are falling short,
Perhaps a moment of time more,
Until they leave a distinct shadow of what laid before,
Fairfarren thee old familiar,
We'll meet when the weather is nice again.

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And deprive you of the honour of being the partner to my game of charades, I'm too old for reality now my love!

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And miss out the opportunity of being my good 'ol dramatic self...naahh ;)

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Ever feel that the storm inside is going to to eat you up...
What do you define as normal,
Being normal,pretending normal,
What  do you believe your normal to be,
When the thoughts that consume you are destructive,
Do you ever get scared of yourself,
Even just for a moment,
Somehow grateful for the pretentious normality,
That keeps the insanity caged,
Does removing the bars acknowledge as freedom,
Or is it just the means to be able to atleast breathe....

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The storm seemed friendly today ,
It waved and smiled before passing by,
Was it a sense of familiarity,
Or perhaps he knew the worst had passed....

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I sing the verses your mind desires
The melancholy of defeat,
easier than a prayer,
Your pleased face couldn't beam enough,
For my vanity had played its share,
The soul feels empty,
The stares too long into the abyss,
I sneak out the empty pages,
Willing the quill to spill its ink with my despairs,
The act felt brave, but as though an imposter,
Is someone out there for me?
A delusion, perhaps...
The ink don't spill,
The hands are ensnared,
Was it all just a passing breeze,
The imposition of a false bravado,
Would the pages forever be empty,
Haunted by your immortal chords,
Someday when the tunes are passé
And the soul and mind entwined,
I wish upon the shooting stars,
To bless upon my quill.

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Life




Its Chaos

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