Tell me,
when does red become pink
or as night becomes day
how anger becomes sorrow
that takes my faith away.
Tell me,  
why the world has color
for it has no need
because what you see is black and white
as shades of pain mislead
Tell me,
how the sky is blue
and why the oceans match
as if they were lovers
that never got attached
Tell me,
what the birds are singing
as if you hear it too  
I want to know their song  
so I can sing to you  
Tell me,
what is above
and not just the sun
but the light of hope
to put down the gun.

You would be September,
and I will be May.
And somewhere in the middle,
we'd meet along the way.

As if I am a stranger
passing you by
gazing through your
blue tinted eyes

I could be your secret
and you will be my muse.
Writing how the seasons will end,
until the cold comes through.

So you will just be September,
and nothing more,
and I will be May
with the hopes it's like before.

You are stepping on my toes,
as if we did not perfect this dance.
When I move back, you follow
if I let you get the chance.

Who would take the lead,
when you missed your fate?
I took you by a whirl
as you turned towards the bait.

I taught you how to Waltz
now do it on your own
just do not miss that beat
before we're left as bones

I think of ballrooms
filled with dancing pairs,
only one left alone  
for their own despair.