It's hard to be meaningful
when your thoughts,
are contorted and destroyed.
Anything that I will ever be,
will be meaningless and flawed.
There will be passion,
there always is.
And there will be lies,
there always is.
Oh. and a universe of stars
in the palm of my hands.
I will hand you a piece of
my world, and move on.
Till I am left with no more.
I know,
it makes no sense.
It's hard to make sense,
when your thoughts
are lies and hollow.
Well, what can I say?
I will never make sense.