if i tried to predict the future
if i gazed into a crystal ball
i would see nothing but my sutures
and hear not a hopeful call

my shipwrecked bones will shatter
my heart will fragment and fall
but through the former and the latter
i'll make sure nobody knows it all

I think the night is made to think. It's the time where you can walk down memorylane. Walk through all the moments, the memories, the pain and the happiness. It's the time where you can find peace. Actually a place to escape from this mostly cruel world..

Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing

      Under my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing

      Over the sky.
One after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every heart this May morning in joyance is beating

      Full merrily;
   Yet all things must die.
The stream will cease to flow;
The wind will cease to blow;
The clouds will cease to fleet;
The heart will cease to beat;
   For all things must die.
      All things must die.
Spring will come never more.
      O, vanity!
Death waits at the door.
See! our friends are all forsaking
The wine and the merrymaking.
We are call'd--we must go.
Laid low, very low,
In the dark we must lie.
The merry glees are still;
The voice of the bird
Shall no more be heard,
Nor the wind on the hill.
      O, misery!
Hark! death is calling
While I speak to ye,
The jaw is falling,
The red cheek paling,
The strong limbs failing;
Ice with the warm blood mixing;
The eyeballs fixing.
Nine times goes the passing bell:
Ye merry souls, farewell.
      The old earth
      Had a birth,
      As all men know,
      Long ago.
And the old earth must die.
So let the warm winds range,
And the blue wave beat the shore;
For even and morn
Ye will never see
Thro' eternity.
All things were born.
Ye will come never more,
For all things must die.

How do I capture the air?
How do I bottle the free?
It moves to its own beat;
it dances to its own music.
How do I capture the air?
(You talked to a writer, bro smiley)

(hahahaha)
You force it into your lungs, and pray it stays till you can breathe it into me.

How can I hold it in that long?
It will die inside me before I could ever reach your door,
and I will die before I could see
our meeting place
your shadow at the end of the road
Just the merest hint
that I'm this close.
But I can't.
I can't cross that distance.
I can't see you,
because death will tear us apart,
because of my foolish pride,
because I dared tried
to capture the air.

Then death should be the sweetest thing to touch your lips, next to the air that brought u[s] together and tore us apart.

Now while my lips are living
   Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
   To speak when I am dead?

Yet if my soul remembered
   You would not heed it, dear,
For now you must not listen,
   And then you could not hear.

The words that go unspoken actually make the most noise.