The lights outside the train
keep rushing like moving stars,
they bridge the gap that sets our world apart.
Every day it is a come and go,
night and day blurs by
whether it rains or it begins to snow,
like a million diamonds in the hands of the poor
while searching for food in an empty store.
What could I have done
with all of that time that was lost,
half of my dreams were smashed,
left as dust, and anger and pain
and perhaps some disdain,
for those who could have it,
but in truth have I even done
something to grab them?
No doubt I've been shown
in some delirict vision,
what it's like to glimpse sincerity,
or was it,
perhaps it was common diversity,
in thoughts and rhymes,
ways to know why
I sit here alone, thinking of us
and how the times have gone by.
If there is an end I dont see it draw near,
my soul,
too late for the hunter's growl,
to matter,
when my thoughts shine darker than coal,
and flatten,
the notions of blinded devotion,
I had for the truth.
Because fire burns the demons inside,
I tend to forget the coldness in your eyes,
slogging through this endless divide,
a storm, subsided, has severed our ties,
now lies. And pain and pain.
If I could I would throw my heart away.