It was dark, deep and wise
A pond of thoughts poured with pain
A man, who tried to walk out of a landscape of disguise
There was a note
Left unexplained, messy and wrinkled
That desires smile, talk and action
But the pencil is broken
Into a piece of selfishness
Cracked, burned and unwritten
Somehow he knocked
Somehow there's answer
Somehow there's none
It was filthy, beautiful or even cruel
Lost in a snap of fingers
In between imagination and existence
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
It was dark, deep and wise
A pond of thoughts poured with pain
A man, who tried to walk out of a landscape of disguise
There was a note
Left unexplained, messy and wrinkled
That desires smile, talk and action
But the pencil is broken
Into a piece of selfishness
Cracked, burned and unwritten
Somehow he knocked
Somehow there's answer
Somehow there's none
It was filthy, beautiful or even cruel
Lost in a snap of fingers
In between imagination and existence
