It surpasses the sane mind
to think of actions after death
How stories start and how it ends
Thoughts through tangents of memory
indulges the imagination of the lucid
Our eyes see truths seldom fake to mind
but truths of ours we trust inside
We feel emotions but never of others
because we are true only to self
and not once for foreign type
We lie as well we hide our insecurities
Try to prance around a world of sensibility
But when the raven rests on one's head
it's time for time to end
Until the world restarts
and there'll be nothing to tend.

i am of white skin
i am not akin to the norm
an otherworldly experience
i sit by the door;
trembling of omnipotence
and i fall guilty
of the differ
yet i judge them
with a scissor