Hallucinations of a dream, waiting to be lived.
Searching for your soul but I feel it's no longer here.
As I look into those empty, lonely eyes.
A part of me is dying to be with the person you once were.
They say,  it's  hard to love someone who doesn't love you.
But sometimes you've got to tango with the demons, to make it through the calendar.

Myths and rapid cycling
mood rings.
These are fabled love stories
from the
Book Of Lust.

Memories seen
from rotten eyes.
And all the maggots,
worms, and spiders.

That live inside them.

Truth is always near.
We just gotta dig for it.

For the truth is always
buried beneath lies.

I shed egos
like a snake sheds its skin.
Forever changing.
Forever growing.
Forever running from the broken whimpers of last nights wishes.
I will always be that lonely spirit.
You never wanted haunting your life.

I don't want to be here.
Or there.
Anywhere for that matter.
I just want to exist, free.

Like the wind taking fallen leaves
off into the sunset.
Or lonely ghosts coming to haunt memories of yesterday.

Aren't we all.
So lucky, if we can still find ourselves. Even after all the horrors time has brought us.