I killed a soul
I broke his heart
I tried to mend it but it just fell apart

It was not sinister
or something I was longing for
yet, I shivered his fragile soul
He said I stabbed him with the tip of my sword
Like if I have never loved before

The minty chemical flavor of my soft body
fed his starving soul
He wanted it so badly
then I thought,
oh how sad is an unrequited love

He is not what I have been waiting for
I think this happened to me before
but I was the unrequited love

I wish there was a way
to mend his lonely soul
I wish
I could find a way
to prevent from shattering his soul

and here we go again
another text from you again
I will answer one more time again
breaking your heart again



Please, don't mind my words





It was a warm morning in April
The tulips were blooming
when I was running

I stood long under stars and trees
clouds transiently swift in winter's eve
memories of yesterday's child, a year to play
a dream, a pond to skate away

Now wintery thoughts are aglow
cool drifts the night through open windows
Owls haunt with delight
they seek to prey,
quick before the light
of sleepy days

I slept and fell deep the well
my soul drinking freely
bathed in sweetest darkness  
depth of sorrow wakes me soon
my joy alights this
morning moon

Celery, raw
Develops the jaw,
But celery, stewed,
Is more quietly chewed.

Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.

They scheme in the shadows of who they might hope to be.
Studying their weaknesses and teaching themselves how to live in solitude.
No one to worry about except for the self.
There's no weight to bare apart from ones own guilt.

Stay in the shadows,
For the light will only burn your eyes.

Hear the white noise?
It steals away all tender moments.
It is a thief of joy and affection.
It drives towards disorder.
It tempts man to stupidity.

Hear the white noise?
It’s the sound of 1000 guitars.
Not with glorious chords.
Not with wondrous solos.
But with feedback.

Hear the white noise?
It lead me down the wide path.
It brought me to the easy way out.
It allowed me to coast through.
It blocked all natural thought.

I heard the white noise.
I let it steer my soul.
I let it play me.
I allowed myself to blame it,
For losing you.