The day I put a mirror to my heart, To find out who I really was,
This world didn't change me, it didn't burn me with its flame,
No! I gave in to it, And once again I had no one else blame.

By now most of you know now,
This is your story too,
And no matter how much we draw and paint it red, green and blue,
We just can't fake it anymore.
It's still just cardboard world,
Yearning to be burnt down.

Laying awake at ungodly hours,
I've often stared into a ceiling that I reflexively believed to be present.

But, whenever I did find myself at leisure from sweating and sleeping,
it was always too dark to make sure that the roof was still there. And this invoked a primal fear within me.

If you need to ask why I felt afraid, you've never been a father.

A father closer to the grave than any of the naive goals he'd set for himself as a child.
A father who had traded his breath and blood for bread and a burrow.
*This uncertain roof, often made me ask, "Has it been worth it?"

Strutting feathers,
Nose I hold in high contempt of all things,
Look at this preening fool in bad weather,
And find in me a little piece of nothing.

A hole, another null area, a void,
A reciprocal infinity, a tranquillity internally collapsing,
A black space within my darkest face ,
One never acknowledged publicly.

Therein lay the worst thoughts 'never' had,
It is the place where my Nothing hides,
You have one too.
Have you found it yet?
Please read on only when you do,

This Void never really goes away,
And I fed it, in the hope of making it disappear,
Threw at it all that money can buy,
And all that it couldn't,
But at the end came to a realization,
That Everything you do has an effect on this hell hole,
But nothing you do, will ever decrease it,
Your only hope remains in keeping it constant and bearable,

*For this is the meaning of life,
Keeping this Nothing from becoming you.

I waited for the green line,
To dance and dance in time.

I waited for a smile to show,
Above the cold stethoscope.

I waited for the white cloth,
To rise and fly like a newborn moth.

I waited for this coffin to move,
And dance to our favorite tune.

I waited for the headstone to be a prank,
Of your imaginative think tank.

I waited for the reverie of your voice,
To tease me for staring out of the window,
So much so that it's the only thing I do,
To wait for you is all I know


All lifelong I waited for you to be heavensent,
Waiting for you is all I know now,
Who saw that in the end,
It would be you waiting for me somehow.

It is one of the fifty five ways to find a friend,
Do they plead ignorance when you need it the most?
Do they hold up that gentle facade till the very end?

When you don't need reality,
Do they make it go away with something witty?

Even with grief and sorrow written all over their faces,
Do they laugh , laugh and laugh, till they don't have to hide their tears?
Do they call you home when you are moping in your dark spaces?

Can they hide their sorrow,
To Make you forget your fated tomorrow?

Their eyes may wrinkle a little lesser each time they smile,
Their voices may not quite seem to be fully existent,
But you are still taken by their mirth, as a balm for a while.

*Oh how I pity the departing soul that doesn't have friends that they didn't buy,
But how much more pity I have, for those whose friends cannot lie.

Observing you
Animated, you speak in increasing overtones, filtering even traces of any creeping monotones.
With a passion that boils like lava in volcanic fissures, you express your convictions in strong hand gestures.
I see in you a certain glow, within which your inner strength shows.
I know now that you're one to stand up and not leave.
I see in you, a solid belief.

Your head whips back, as growing laughter wracks you in vibrations sharp, every little motion originating from your hearts little shards.
I see in you, something I don't see in me, a bravery to bear the brunt of a dishonest society.
No need have you, to repress or regress every feeling or thought, so subconsciously you confess. You detest going through the motions, but know enough to be true to your emotions.
I see in you something for me, honesty.

As you speak of the people you lost and the people you just had to let go of, an incomplete smile and lying eyes tell the story that your lips just cannot. Smothered by the memories, your smile waits for the tension to release.
It twitches and ceases, seemingly against its own wishes.
I see a broken world in your eyes, but also a flame that never dies.
I see in you a veteran of storms, a resounding bell that never stops.

A temper you hold, that often flares in your eyebrows.
I steal a glimpse, even when you won't let it show. But you hold your beast down, and a more permanent smile replaces that momentary frown, as you reject the things that make you drown.
I see in you kindness and resilience.
I see in you, empathy and forbearance.

You speak of a thousand places and times and a oceanful of faces.
You speak of the worlds that you are a part of, the experiences that you're at the heart of.
Your eyes tell is wonders that are and have been. Even your songs bear the mark of the celestial, a beauty that stands on a pedestal.
I see in you, the work of God and now to the effect I see how you really are, imperfectly perfect.