Long ago
there were poets
who taught us
how life goes on.

They were left in dust
but kept on pages
they gave us reason to love;
You must give it back.

People are made of shattered mirror
they shine through its broken pieces;
a misunderstood beauty
totally human.

They kept words unsaid
in blurred voices
they broke their promises
in their own idea
they lost in translation
as they can never be fixed again.

I had a desolate knowingness—
a chrysalis of storm to despair,
a home of ashes and old haunts.

They are all smoke and mirrors.

From all that I had  sought
in distress
should I digress a stress
that you may be distraught
or it would taught you
to see, or to feel
as I stay up with you
'till dusk, 'till dawn.

A ghost you see
a reflection that keep
coming back
lurking in shadow and dust
no matter what the cause,
it wouldn't consume.

Remember when
                     I had less    
                     perception to see the darkness
                     when you take away all the
                     lights as you leave;

You said, you felt
                  nothing more,
                  nothing less.

I deal with daylight dialogues
and night time lullabies
you make them bright and true
suddenly, they become plain monologue
as you drift away.

We feel those changes
as we're not used to live in this
we still hide our pain that manipulates us
we're still on the process of knowing our
disposition and misbelief
against everything,
I choose you despite my fears.