I reach with outstretched hands towards
the tiers of a fading sky, with no words. And I
preach to myself to hate desperate plays.
I hide these tears by myself, dismayed
by my lack of worth. Oh, how it hurts...

To him, I flash for the flavor of friendship
feeling forever fine in my fleeting eyes.
Over him, I’ll get a grip and still trip
around the land just for his hand.
It doesn’t matter who is near,
with him, I have no fear and no tears.
My wishes are as hot glass
when he molds, he holds and folds
my prayers with his wants no matter how old.
Through everything I stay,
for these desperate plays.

To her, I head, head over heels
hoping her happiness hears my heart.
For her, I race to become better.
So gracefully, I craft an arrow to start
piercing the evils that set us apart.
I wade through brooks as a crook,
looking for how to fall deeper on her hook.
I lie, I cry, I die with her, parting
anything between us. We can never depart,
she is my restart, she is my art.
Her attention outpaces any meal,
it’s shocking as eels, that she kills,
steals, my hurt for sheer thrill with sheer will.
And yet she heals. She heals with watts
that work to change my energy so powerfully.
Through everything I stay,
for these desperate plays.