Good day inspiration,
I've been looking for you,
I've lost all motivation,
at a loss for what to do.
I used to be so self secure,
but now I've found a stranger in myself,
I'll never claim my soul was pure, but now it really needs some help.

Can you tell me how to feel?
I've seem to have forgotten,
I thought this all was real
but it's a subject I was never taught in.
I have two paths ahead of my feet,
an angel and devil on my shoulder.
I've always been a fan of extreme heat,
but it seems the world is just getting colder.

Good evening dedication,
you've been in my heart but out of mind,
now I'm in need of medication,
for the nirvana that I want to find.
I want to always be beside you,
I'm desperate for a sun in my sky.
I've voiced silence but every word true,
that I had left you was my only lie.

Can you show me how to live?
I don't think my heart holds a beat.
I don't have much left to give,
but I'll look for you on every street.
I have two paths ahead of my shoes,
an angel and a devil at my ear.
They plan to win the game I always lose,
they never miss their time of the year.

Goodnight my true love,
I've been waiting forever for you.
You are all that I've thought of, there hasn't been much else to do.
The light of the moon should show you to me,
and you can be led to me following the stars,
I'll be in the same place that I'll always be,
and we both know that's never too far.

I'm going to paint your image so beautiful and bright,
that one day everyone will know you're pure sunlight.
I'm going to paint your image so beautiful and bright,
that one day everyone will worship you with these words that I write.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I know that sounds completely insane.
But in one stage you're there to make me swoon,
and the next change to cause me pain.
When the moon decides she is full,
and can not grow another inch,
we both feel this undeniable pull,
yet from gentle hands we still flinch.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I know it sounds completely mad.
You show up just to leave me in ruin,
but it's not always all that bad.
The moon gives the sky some light,
and you feed my heart some lies,
but Darling the moon doesn't shine half as bright,
as your warm and beautiful eyes.

Our connection coincides with the moon,
and I sense you know it too.
Cause even though our words are always skewed,
deep down I'm bound to you.
When the moon decides it's time for her to leave,
and the sky turns solid black,
You follow her and I'm left to grieve,
but I know you'll always come back.

Invisible water is filling up a lung,
constantly drowning in an everyday world.
No words to every song that has ever been sung,
we are born and we die the same; body curled.
Trees grow but leafs fall, a barren way left to display,
Seas and breeze call, it's said that night is the one true love to day.

We try to be our best, but our best is rarely enough.
With the beat that's in our chest, we're fooled to think that we are tough.
Language was made to communicate, but we quarrel in pettiness.
Still we can all relate to an elegy of emptiness.

There's a dark room in every home,
and each closet holds atleast a single skeleton.
Our feet recognize the path we roam,
and you're not surprised that you fell again.
Puddles gather for us to splash, separating each drop from kin,
I know I'd rather just ask for the water to let me come in.

We try to be our best, but our best is rarely enough.
We all need to take a rest, our strength is now merely a bluff.
Distance is here for us to jump, but not many know readiness,
everyone has some sort of slump with an elegy of emptiness.

Lives travel on, and many paths become split,
and we all prattle on, only our feelings do we acquit.
Life doesn't stop for any one person, no matter the benefit.
But you listen to a different version, that much you have to admit.

We try to be our best, but our best is rarely enough.
Each day now is just a test, truth mixed in with the fluff.
Souls were made to connect, but most care only for prettiness,
not realizing the effect and then the elegy of emptiness.

"Will you always love me?"
The question is absolutely ridiculous; I have loved her a million lifetimes before, and I will love her for a million lifetimes after.
Our souls mesh and fit every inch of each other.
Our minds are forever connected, and our hearts are perfectly intertwined.

"Will you always be.."
"Mine?" I finish for her, like many sentences she speaks.
My answer is a smile, a true and genuine smile.
A smile that, before her, never had graced my lips before.
She possess every single speckle of my being,
my organs were utterly useless before I donated them to her.
Her hands fit in mine perfectly,
and my skin is electrified by simply brushing up beside her.

"I love her."
I tell my mother's headstone, when I catch up with the grass and trees in the graveyard.
Four years have flown by, and everyday I am still more in love than the last.
When we're good we're great, and when we're bad we're good.

"She's the one" the stars hear my thoughts,
a constant running track in the style of an infinity symbol;
every grain on it being a vision of only her.

"She is my world"
and I live for her, every. single. day.

Whenever I'm beside you, whenever I'm alone,
I want to just hide through, every emotion that I've shown.
The rain is pouring down now, and I'm losing my vision.
There's absolutely no sound, but I've heard it devours from within.

But this life, this is sinning.
It's never the end, always the beginning.

The darkness is so empty, and it swallows me whole,
I hope you don't forget me, I wish I fit your soul.
Please stop ripping at concrete, stop tearing at the thread,
I'm memorizing with my feet, a path already lead.

But this is life, this is sinning.
I've withstood this so long and my patience is thinning.

You walk along my dreams now, when I close my eyes you're there,
I've stopped asking the how, and I've accepted the where.
The what is desperation, and the when is all the time,
the who is my inspiration, but it stopped being mine.

But this is life, this is sinning.
You can't stop the world, it'll always be spinning.

For those who need to hear it.
Life is not easy. It's never easy, actually.

And when it rains, it truly does pour.

Sometimes you feel as if you are drowning,
or that you're surrounded by literal ****.

Then it rains, and it pours, and the **** is soaking wet.
But, it's up to you with what to do with that ****.

You can either step in it and complain in disgust...
or you can grab a shovel, a rake, maybe some seeds,
and maybe, just maybe,
you can it turn the **** into something beautiful.