The morning light is creeping unto my window sill,
it was warm and sweet, but agony in its rising from the ground.
summer doesn't stain me any shade of pink,
I remain a pallid white of cadaverousness.

the birds sing their birdsong to any ear that listens,
but as the flowers fall from trees, ears a lended elsewhere.
towards the monetary dictator, a tyrant in its blood,
we disregard the flowers our snow it comes as floods.

the birth of warmth it boils, swelters in God's midst,
a year is marked, and death - will give their graceful Kiss.

the very first time i looked up to the sky,
it was dark, and it was scary— still, i tried.
the world was so cruel, and my mind was in chaos
but someone told me, “it’ll be the most brilliant darkness in our eyes”

darkness has never felt this comforting before
so warm, it feels like home. so accepting it feels like a hug.
since then, i never took my eyes off darkness
because i know, it’ll be the most brilliant in our eyes.

even with all these voices in my head,
im still lonely without you.