Talking until dawn,
But no abnormal atmosphere.
Revealing the secrets;
There's a sudden high tempreture.
It becomes midnight,
We think 'too early'.
It becomes cold.
We soon get cosy
Under the blankets filled with warmth,
As we are too shy for a midnight call.
Sleep comes to us so we say goodnight
While longing for one's cherished sight.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
Why is it so
That we could potentially be labelled as close
Yet be as far as the millions to the sun?
And in the deepest of my thoughts, I would still lay confused in deception.
Truly, it may be coincidence,
That we both cannot define this which is between us.
There is prominent distance and a thin line of assurance
Because of what we believe or rather what we think of us to believe
And it is these small little processes of our minds that wire up for only the worse
And at times I fall into their grasp;
The answers become void.
Then, I fall deeper since sometimes it's harder to not be of complexity.
As I only become free with speech
Not thinking before I speak.
I become wary
Why is it so
That we stray from happiness only to look for it at the end where we've lost the time?
And I wish to ask,
Like this, is it the same for you?
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC