Left lost after love's deep virulence,
Leaving me in deep need of a metaphysical therapist.
Her heart harder than the blindness of erebus,
But the relationship was based off of panic trusts,
So forever until never it was, a manic driven worldless wonderlust.

why do i bother writing these words down,
when all i get in return is a lost soul and a self roll.
write on and write black and white swan songs,
on and on, all for someone who's already gone.

You can hear the break in his grown up voice,

You can feel the cracks in his weathered skin,

He can see the solidity of his most painful choice.

He can sense that his mental end is about to begin.

Even when we're lost we can still see.
But the store of human kindness is much like the Aral Sea,
So let's speak humankind's long due eulogy,
And be the best of the last beings we can be.

Roll the dice, do it twice,
The rules of paradise are never nice.

I always treated you,
Better than you treated me,
I could see you didn't care.
Treatment is life's social key,
It can lift away all the hurt and despair.
I was drowning, and I tried to make you see,
But then again, you didn't care.
I'll remember when we carved our names in my heart,
But I hope I'll never remember where.
Because I'm trying not to care.