winter knocked at my door
before it could bloom
staring into an abyss
i long for the days old good

deserted like embers from burning firewood
love took a huge rebound
still waiting for it to return
return in the best shade of blue

i saw the gray entering my periphery
the fog  covered my sense of insecurity
thought- the lost is for someone who are “us”
but my story didn’t even began

loving someone new was never so torturous
moving on but my face is still gray
reeling at night, smiling in daytime
desertion from you still haunts my midnight

thought that love would make its grand return
but the lingering sadness over-weigh my fervor wishes
the fleeting feeling of love
but it failed to turn gray into a blue world

why would you stare into my eyes?
it’ll keep a hold on me
while you’ll leave me behind
unrequited this story will be
just like in the past I couldn’t be-
“someone’s muse but they were mine”
my face will turn gray again
and this feeling will die in a million times

sound of burning fire crackers reminds me of a day
light from burning fire crackers reminds me of a day
when you were her, joining the group with joy
i watched you from the sideline when your face light up pink
the smile that never faded till you were here
but the feeling engraved within me tells me to cry
i meet you in my dreams and always try to tell you
“i love you mother, you were so blue”

in your eyes, there’s a plea
as if they’re in search of something warm and sweet
the look that you gave me sparked something
something very dangerous that needs to be handled with care and free
free of insecurities for it to bloom
bloom in the best shade of blue

my plea is to forever hold you dearly and close
never letting go of your hand and let it freeze
in november’s cold when it’s snowing outside the window
i’ll build something with snow and let you laugh at me
my plea is to forever hold you close
and peace will never leave our door

there’s a ghost in my glitter filled room
that reminds me of you
and says, “you are my only muse”

night is the hour of peace
but once the clock strikes at midnight
the ghost comes out to take me to hell

loving you was never a crime
but when i’m trying to move on
your memories still lingering around this time

in denial
but pacing while room is on fire
motion capture fail to paint his emotions
"I'm fine"- a product of his illusion

litany of reasons but pain stuck under his skin
too afraid to pen about, too afraid to scream it out
demons are his rulers, will demons be the winners?
help! he is drowning he can't put out this fire