You left me here alone and cold.
I miss you like you could never believe.
I doubted my faith every day,
And changed my mind again and again
Because if there was a god in this forsaken world
It wouldn’t want to take you away from me.

He is leaving me here alone and cold
I am missing him like the dead flowers on my windowsill
I doubt my faith every day now
And change my mind over and over
Because the god I chose to believe in,
Took you away from this forsaken world.

She is leaving me here alone and cold.
I miss her already like the grass in the winter.
I still doubt my faith everyday.
I will always change my mind when
Looking for something to truly believe in
Because every god I look to for help in this forsaken world,
Will still take her away from me.

I am leaving you cold and alone.
I hope you miss me like no other.
I hope you doubt your faith every ****** day,
And change your mind again and again
Because if there were a god in this forsaken world
I would have found a better way to save you.

Oh little bee,
What must you mean
To hold that heavy key

Little bitty bee,
Striving to keep flying
Efforts are only that I can see

The water on you
Is full of a color wonder
Unexpected from the simple dew

The flowers of pink
Set you apart from the rest
As you rest to think

Oh little bee
What you must mean
To hold such a heavy key

Light and dark,

the cars stop to park,

while the driver becomes a dream.



Day and night,

he puts up a fight,

to stay at bay with his dreams.



Days and weeks,

they all seem so bleak,

while the driver becomes his dream.

I pick up a pen.
                           ...or is it a gun?
and write about zen.
The world is all but one.

I pick up my pen.
                               ...or is it my gun?
I will find it soon then,
the war is all but won.

I pick up a pen.
                           ...or is it a gun?
I write about Jen and,
how war may lack fun.

Jen pick up her gun.
                                    ... it is surely not a pen.
my pen loses rhythm and so has the war
and the people who still fight all lose.
                                                                  In the end we will all lose...

Galileo once told that two bodies that fall at exactly the same time, regardless of whatever, land at identical times, too. That regardless of how heavy or light their loads are or how dim or bright their souls are, when they fall, they fall.

Together.

And stay grounded, together.

But he dared not to tell of how two souls could ignite but still fail to heave each other’s flames.

Of how two bodies fall at the very same time,

*but never for each other.

If anxiety could hear me
I'm not sure what I would say
What words could I even find looking into her eyes?
It's the little flecks of gold in her deep blue that leave me breathless
Like I can't find help in an ocean full of outstretched hands
****
If she could hear me, would I shout?
Would I scream just to redeem my previous shameful silence
How dare you take the air from my lungs like it was your song to be sung
I wrote the notes with my own two hands
Like a dying soldiers last stand this is my peak
And you have no right to take that away from me
So this time my rib cage is reinforced with I-beams
Steel
So what if you're not real
I feel it