To think that you are out there,
somewhere. Living, breathing, feeling.
Just like a normal human being.
Is hard to imagine, really.

What is it about you, anyway?
That makes me go so far astray.
Are you also just made out of clay?
Out of flesh and blood and love?

If so, then how come you have eyes
like the skies at dawn?

I've never seen those on a human before.
They raise my skin and stir my very core.

And how do you explain the blackness of your hair?
So fair, it almost sings songs of beauty sincere.

Am I the only one around here, who has noticed?

And your voice, so clean and serene.
It shrouds the air with it's pearly sheen.

Have you ever sung? Did the birds and the spirits come?

What are you?!
And what have you done to me?

Please, just return my heart.
Order your ghost to depart,
cause it's tearing me apart.
Please, show mercy.

Could it be true
that if you knew
how much I love you.

You would love me too?

There is a burden in my chest,
refusing to let me rest.

It feels like a heavy, cold, metal ring.
It only disappears when I sing.

It's fitted tightly around my heart,
threatening to tear it apart.

I try to forget,
but I'm blocked by regret.
I helplessly call out your name.
Hoping to feel a fragment of your presence.
Foolishly seeking shelter in your remembrance.

Even though I know,
it's more a poison than a cure.
How many moments like this
do I need to endure?

When will it stop being true?
When can I see sunlight,
and not think of you?

I'm sorry to say
that everyday

gravity wins and
heartache begins.

I honestly wonder
if desire is sincere.

For while being filled up,
it always stays the same.

If nothing here satisfies me,
then how can I be from here?

Please, tell me.

If you don't want me:
Then please, hate me.

Throw me away,
let me go astray

But if there's hope:
I'm willing to cope,
I'l cling on to my rope.

For you I'll endure.
Because for this,
there is
No Cure.