In the pages of, luck I fed
When i am living, after I am dead
In my tomorrow, to the words I have said
In the stories, In the history
In the best of all the mystery
be the part of every memory

                                                            Be Alive

I sit settled under the feet.
Unless I am pushed or provoked
They say I pollute the street
Then hire someone to move
If you only give me somewhere to live
Maybe then there would be nothing to prove


Never born rogue
I evolute
But don’t you remember
When you pollute?
Then others still solute?


Clean my existence, I can tell you where to start
It should be your heart


See, I cannot be declared deceased
I must co-exist

Conscious, that is he
And then there is me
Both within, within thee
Failing to clearly see

Confessions are Illustrated
Speech steered
Though, to he, all is feared
For truth is shot, and lashes of facts
And no cover with selfless acts
He produces and introduces thee
The versions of me
The ones insvisible like he

Innocence, that is he
Aware of all the sins

But protected in a shadow
It too has its cost
Because the roof has been lost
Somewhere in a meadow
In tiny wars of life deep into sand
Where it ends to begin again and
The ocean of darkness is dead

I got one word for you
Desperate
When you dont realize the point where things conjugate
And follow through the construction while we might recreate the reason to be back at the same place

I have something for you
Pity
After so long of a journey an infamous identity
Seeker of the name respect Or so
Like a rusty rod holding on to the finale edge of the fall

Sometimes the wordplay
becomes too easy
Because for once to say
Desirably choosy
As the expressions are repeated
So does the sentiments
Papers are thrown or words deleted
So are the statements

Eyes closed, the requested wish is
listen to symphony
A vice host, but represents the pieces of harmony

I speak inside my brain
and then my heart replies.
I've lived my life as the rain
falling down from the vacant skies.
I told you that I loved you
and truer words were never spoken,
but how much can one person do,
when paradise is broken?

I turn my back on memories
but they still slap me in the face,
the emotions get the best of me
when I'm standing in the wrong place.
I told you that I'd keep you dry
even though I myself was soakin'
but how hard can one person try
when paradise is broken?

The pastel colours were fake,
except the black and white,
I shaded it all for the sake
it was not pleasing to my sight.
In every single dream I drown,
I always give up on that fight,
until I'm buried in the ground
I'll dream that struggle every night.

Heaven is over occupied
they stopped letting just any folk in,
and purgatory is mystified
'cause paradise is broken.

I long for the free birds
with their hazardous flapping wing
and the way they spin their words
into gentle songs we sing.
I told you I was missing my mind
I just could never rope it in,
how much can one person find
when paradise is broken.

The pastel colours were fake,
except for the black and white,
I needed the blue for a lake,
and the red for the ****** fight.
In every dream I'm alone,
I try to change that with all my might,
you spoke aloud in a wrong tone
but atleast the words were right.

Heaven is over occupied
I wish I never had woken,
and Hell is now justified
cause paradise is broken.

You own; each beat from my chest, both lungs and every breath,
what I have and all the rest,
my life until my death.