In my heart you were meant to live,
But in reality you were meant to leave.

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Uninspired by your plight,
Unwilling to fight,
Uncertain of the existing light,
Isn't this the perfect moment to write?

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What should I write about?

Should I write about the songs I always played,
The lyrics I erased in mind,
The melodies I missed,
Whilst pursuing sad harmonies,
Or the dances I created,
Whilst tuning to the beats created by others.
What should I write about?
Maybe I should just sing it all aloud!
And not worry if it will make the world proud.

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A Letter From a Weirdo

Not trying to be your friend,
But my love won't fail.
Not trying to be a saint,
But this imperfect ship won't sail.
I was born a loner,
But my heart naturally grows fonder.

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Rewrite the chapter,
For disaster triggers new episodes of laughter.

-

I'm rest assured our love will grow older

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Waiting for my call

In your world, I always show,
In your arms, I always fall,
But I'm ever alone, as we both know.

I hear you no more,
In this deadly night, you cheer me no more.
At least now I know,
You are my darkest light, my weakest strength, my friendly foe.
You wait for my call, while I wait for my new song.

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*Discomforts of Wisdom*

Awake, I will remain
Alert, like I'm insane.
Beliefs disrupt my head,
Ideas upset my day.
Being aware resembles madness,
As imaginations cloud my judgements.

They say it's precious to be wise,
But I'll say it's peaceful to be foolish.

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