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Burn it down
Let the smoke and everything
You hold dear climb out the windows
Start with an empty heart
I already cut the anchor loose
Look where else you can be
We'll have radios in hand
We'll be in touch
But I can't sail by your side
Spring blooms elsewhere,
Be free
Let me rise amongst the constellations
The chase is over - I stopped miles ago
The verdure sphere beckons me
Behold, your sweet sweet name
Descending the ladder of the chatter box
Like a blooming daisy withered by neglect
A music box impaired by inactivity
Down, and down it goes
It's not supposed to bother me
But, I hate that it is so
Alcohol coursing through my veins
Erratic thoughts cloud me
I beat the drums of impulsiveness
We dance towards the primerose path
With brake pads worn out
Hold on honey, hold on too late
You left me on the precipice of impiety
You left like I was your imagining
You are the sun that burns my skin
The moonlight that keeps me sleepless
I was a distraction to your chaos
A vessel to compose your troubled thoughts
A willing canvass to your destruction
I am the Knight who saved the dragon
I must have deceived myself
Did I?
I made a fool out of myself
I'm not sure?
Can you blame me for doing so?
What do you think?

I'm leaving the flaming seas pristine
I'm a leaking oil rig
I might blow up if I stay in it
I'm content that it scorched me
Let it not combust me any further
Everything is better as is
I choose to dwell in beautiful, tragic memories. Because behind every memory, there is an associated regret. Because in every memory, however beautiful they may be, are bundled with doubt. Two contrasting qualities locking horns, vying for our consciousness. What's sad however, is we usually choose to fall back on the negative zone, uttering auspicious affirmations to ourselves. Why bother at all, if you’re just a butterfly landing on a fly trap? We’ve always started at the top of the rainbow all along yet, we choose to slide away from the *** of gold and into the boiling cauldron. What made us so uncomfortable and squeamish about the thought of lying on a bed of tulips? No matter how intricate and deliberate our thoughts can get, it will always boil down to two choices, the fair or the ugly. I don’t know about you, but I think my choice is clear. You see, our memories are only dull and hurtful, because we choose to see it that way. That unwelcomed memory is just a *** of gold enveloped in a tar of pessimism, it’s only like that if you keep it that way.
A disturbing but necessary evil
Pain helps us appreciate love
The more you love the more you get cut
But I'd rather get cut than live a cold life
It's what makes love forever unsettling
Yet infinitely alluring.
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