I am not liberated; I’ll be drinking till I’m free
Dancing like a puppet; a puppet with no strings
If this is the land of promise; promise that none
Of the promises have skipped me

Do not assume that it’s over, to consume your  
Self-worth to just presume that you’re sober  
To close your eyes, to feel your joy coming closer
I do not amuse the fact of getting older, or overlook
The fact that the world is close to being over

Here is the past, images of your youth running past
Memories of it all, live as long as you last, be careful
Not to be chasing the pleasures of it, as chasing after lust
Take a secret fast; cleanse yourself of the regrets that
Have come past

Look at the guy standing near the stall
In  light blue shirt and untied shoe lace
With medium height and messy brown hair
He has a bright smile in his baby face
Slim body, light skin, child like nature
Thin Lips and Rabbit eyes which has no fear
He has a big heart with full of Love
His face seems like an innocent Dove
Head is full of notorious thoughts
Brain is  very  sharp like Thought Fox.

Listen to the trees,
Hear them rustle in the breeze.
They whisper to the wind,
As it bristles all their leaves.
50 shades of green,
Shimmer like a dream,
And the trees give out a clue,
That the wind is passing through.
While somewhere deep inside,
Ghostly figures hide.
Spirits from within the wood
Play with shadows as they should.
The trees see you passing by,
And, with a soothing sigh,
Becalm your beating heart,
And relax your roving eye.