Lights
Starting off and blinking,
Atop of some building
As I figure the meaning,
Of the same question, my existence
But I know it's okay, one day
I am gonna grow wings
A special octave, A better person

Noises
Starting off and sounding,
In the chambers of my chest
Like I'm falling asleep, in a quest
To find someone who is now at rest
But I know it's okay, one day
I am gonna grow wings
A metamorphosis, A wing

Fear
Starting off and flashing,
In a lit room that is blinding
Maybe, it's just the world
With infinite, crowned patience
But I know it's okay, one day
I am gonna grow wings
A little hope, hopefully lasting long
Than everything

something in your magnetic field, a friend
dim and hard, the falling of surrender is due
it's you we are talking about
crashing like a toy, a boy, waiting for foy
enter to a road, scared more than me, implode
at every inconvenience, optimistically friends,
with a pirate who never killed, never felt, so much fear
in twenty thousand years of sailing away from himself
you must find yourself, lost in front of your undoing
for life is a short warm moment, and death is a cold long rest
find a glooming heart in rest, to lecture about being a *****
must overfire, your moral qualms.
I guess we were more than ourselves
and you just missed it

hands off my podium, my real space
find yourself a space, spaced like a prison,
corridor,
hushed to a lullaby, about free,
birds or people having *** in
pure misery
the purest heaven set in bars, like a teenager
throwing tantrums at
nothing, and everything
screaming for attention like a little *****
drained of space, hands off my podium
or debate me

why don't I get bored of it?
prove a certain synergy and mutual fear of
crying in a corner in the middle
of a desert, deserted by our heroes
forever, in memories, they turn,
to werewolves, going from corner and corner
so that you can't foresee, a western wind
so brutal, it changes you, honey, like a burden
falling in every inch of your beautiful burden
your flesh is the only yours, maybe

Feels like enemy art
The crushing feeling of missing a lot
Moments, memories locked in a box
A flock of people singing a single song
Familiar people, nice people, you can tell
A herd of unheard sparks
"Mississippi river won't **** ya,
until you stand too close my dear"
Feels like mercy

I woke up, forced to beg
Earn through either by flesh
Or give them my blessings without
The comfort of touch
Without the shade in rain
Or comfort of family or food
I can't work, forced to beg
I encounter suitcases in the gloom
And people on headphones
Not hearing me scream
I hope they drown from my teary
Broken smile
I can't feel, forced to beg

The quieter, dissolve
And re-enter like that Episode
Of psychic telepathy on the TV
Empty than a vase,
Of cheap flowers, like the one that
A boy gives a girl he likes
Like the one you gave me.
I tried to grow it in my backyard
I was little and naive
The quieter, dissolve
And remember again the case of youth,
And that I was a little more
Than a lily.