Oh how my heart grows fond
Oh how it wrecks my every bond

It fails my lungs
It endorses my wrongs
It drowns my heart
Pulling my limps apart

Ohh, how it closes all doors
And so much more

This sickening melancholy
This universal unholy
Attached itself to my brain
Tries to prove myself insane

Oh how it makes me want to go berserk
Puts my mind out of lurk

Ripping all ties to pieces
Figuring it'll bring me to peace

Oh but all it does is spread
All corners of my soul blue or red
Oh how it ruins me
Foregoing all the good I was supposed to be

Oh how this loneliness is addicting
This melancholy is growing
This bittersweet agony
This sweetbitter happy

Is it me?
Or
It is it apart of me?

I wonder
Oh how I wonder

-fir.m

Inseparably attached
Hopelessly apart
Many oceans away
But we carried one heart

The emotions I feel
As I think of you
A smile or a tear
I wonder which is true.

I never touched your hand
Or called your name aloud
Yet I have no doubt
About finding you in a crowd

The words of love you give
And bits of truth you share
Are the only things that help
This distance life's given me to bear

I try to be so strong
But I am brought to my knees
By the miles that separate us
To create our love's complexities

-fir.m

In the morning he feels the weight,
The pounding rhythm of the hour,
Where he starts his day
Having to bear the effects of getting such jumbled thoughts
And mixed vain feelings
Where are the answers to the questions that do not wish to have answers?

Inside the scriptures of mind
No thought is second guessed
The reasons of the rhythm stand true
There is something inside of him that moves
* ~A heart he claims to not have *
  The one that lingers and vibrates
At the bottom of the sea
Aligning with the coral shelves
Worrying about whom he's yet to meet
Whom will figure out
That in his heat lies a soul
In his hell lies a prophet
yet to reach potential
   Having to
Push his door open
And burn the envelop that cages him

But he fears
Letting go of this hatred
Would waken the realization
Of how alone he really is
For that hatred
Is what keeps him from cracking
Is what helps him maintain
His make belief life of dark love
But in actuality
It's just clothing on the lonesome truth
Of his scarred
Made of Steele
Lonely Lion Heart

-fir.m

What are we worth?
See the thing is,
      We have none.

-fir.m