Head starting to hang down
Eyes closing
Drifting away
To slumber
It's calling
But once more
I push
To make sure
I'm creating something new
And not being wasteful with my days
I want to be as creative as possible
Because if i don't create, what's my true purpose as a writer?
I'm here to shake the hourglass, not watch it fill up
I'm here to make the comet deflect in new ways, not let it zoom past me
I got mad respect for people who persist in low strides
So i want to at least have a fraction of their story
Despite it contrasting significantly
I want to subliminally
Blow the world's minds
By writing each line
Feeling so immensely divine
Compact thoughts are now released
Watch averageness decease

There's nothing wrong with trying to be like water
And try to make her soaked
My feelings aren't cloaked
Hate is the only thing i provoke
Truth is what i spoke
I just want to be water
That makes you wet
That sounds strange, i bet
Unfortunately for Tibet
It's still not a country
Many single people feel like Tibet.