I'm losing it all,
inch by inch
pebble by pebble
grain by grain.
I'm losing my world,
So I starve on twigs
In a bountiful Hell
A stomach too empty
To hold any traces.
I'm losing my hope,
Too long have I stayed
Too long have I prayed
Oh, but God knows
I must find a way.
I'm losing it all
"Don't give up hope!" I beg
Let me cry for you
let me take on your pain
So we can see another day
I would rather suffer
Than to watch you fade.
So for just one day, just one moment,
I'll take on your agony.
Yet I know its in vain, to wish or to ask,
So I'll keep on hoping, and praying for another day to last.

Oh,
How many times have I dreamed
of places and people I'll never meet?
Ah,
How many times have I imagined a different life or person
that I wished to be?
Such thoughts visit me when I am in great need
For sometimes the present seems too bitter,
and the future, unsweet.
Sometimes I loathe the unending march of the clock hand
which follows its unchanging path with a persistent pace,
Sometimes I fear the deafening silence
In which relentless ghosts come to greet me,
with past wishes and regrets...
Oh God...
Please just once, let me turn back the hand of time
Let me go back to a time when a minute was a millennium
and a day forever,
Let me once again sit upon my patio
watching the world go by, oblivious to all its evils,
Let me regain my invincibility
which I tested tirelessly,
Let me revisit that earliest memory of mine,
where I petted a horse along the seashore,
Please, let me stop the hand of time
To remain in her embrace forever,
To stay on the beach with her forever,
To race down the block with him forever,
To be chased by him forever,
To hear her lessons forever,
To watch her knit forever,
To build makeshift castles with her forever,
To be in their presence forever.
To be...forever.
Ah,
How many times will I march forward as I taste salt upon my cheek?
Oh,
How many times will I go running back,
to a past I will never meet?

I've become phenomenal, outstanding, and courageous.
I've become dignified.
I've become a person that understands the meaning of life and all its wonders.
I've become amazing and outstanding, succeeding in all ways.
I shall achieve my success at any rate.
What I have earned no one can take away from me.
What I have earned no one can give to me but myself.
You cannot explain me in words but, even if you tried to write them on a page
The words would merely lift up and fly away.

I cannot…comprehend her,
Because I do not know her.
I cannot…describe her,
Because she cannot be described.
One does not simply put her into words.
For words are insufficient.
They are meaningless, colorless, and passionless.
PASSION.
She alludes to it, she bathes in it.
She is not defined by it, but she defines it.
She cannot be seen…she is illusive.
Invisible, intangible, indescribable…invincible
She is brave-dauntless-
She amazes all, yet none can amaze her.
She is fierce-untamable:
She is determined-unbreakable.
She is she.
For I can hear her, yet
I cannot comprehend her.
For I can see her, but
I cannot touch her.
Because it is she who burns with brilliance, with life.
For it is she who lives on
And walks on the air with her head held high, and yet
It is I who kneels to the ground and dies.
I will never compare to her, but
How can I say such nonsense?
For it is I who is she, and it is she who is I.

As a pale phantom with a lamp
Ascends some ruin’s hainted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.

Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed,
As if this phantom, full of pain,
Were by the crumbling walls concealed,
And at the windows seen again.

Until at last, serene and proud
In all the splendor of her light,
She walks the terraces of cloud,
Supreme as Empress of the Night.

I look, but recognize no more
Objects familiar to my view;
The very pathway to my door
Is an enchanted avenue.

All things are changed. One mass of shade,
The elm-trees drop their curtains down;
By palace, park, and colonnade
I walk as in a foreign town.

The very ground beneath my feet
Is clothed with a diviner air;
While marble paves the silent street
And glimmers in the empty square.

Illusion! Underneath there lies
The common life of every day;
Only the spirit glorifies
With its own tints the sober gray.

In vain we look, in vain uplift
Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind;
We see but what we have the gift
Of seeing; what we bring we find.