She is heavy
In the mind and in the soul
She is a love so impure
But that love is beautiful all the same
She makes broken men feel whole
She is a blessing in disgust
A lost soldier in a lost world
She is eager to satisfy
The dreams of every dreamer that ever graced
The presence of her race

She is human, imperfect
She is crying
Her tears can be heard falling
But her sobs are silent
She is in love with ideas and notions
She is a dream unfurled
She is the kiss you’ll always remember
The eyes you’ll never forget
She is trying
She is in love with a man
Who doesn’t care
She calls him
But he never answers
She knocks on his door
But he never lets her in
She’s leaving
Maybe I should have answered the door
But it’s too late
She’s already gone

comme si, comme ça

que sera, sera

blah blah blah

what are you saying?

je ne sais pas

pardon my franglais

ma langue est anglais

I hope I pass the exam

dans le mois de mai

things are not what they seem to be.
a blade of grass is a field of ruin,
dust moves in a circle,
and death is a false end.

things are not what they are.
god is existence,
the future is set in stone,
yet even mountains move,
given time.

things are not.
faith is complacence,
an onyx tower, buried,
in the amber depths of the heart...