It's empty space.
It's empty noises.
It's empty parallel.
It's negative vibrations.
It's full of emptiness inside.
It's outside not look like empty.
Sometimes, I slip into a parallel universe.
I'm walking a route I have before,
But it is
In a way I cannot put my finger on.
It dawns on me quickly.
The realisation is unpleasant,
And it's like
Slithering on the back of my brain.
The feeling is brief.
I'm lost for a while,
And then I'm
Like I was never gone.
Sometimes, my face is parallel too.
I look at my reflection,
But it is
Not the face I thought it was.
The worms are back on my brain.
But this time they speak,
And they are
I cannot make them quiet.
But just like always, they go.
They never stay for long,
And I can
I realise that there is no parallel universe.
The street is the same.
My face is the same.
Abercrombie , John ;noted jazz guitarist
There's always more to it than meets the eye.
Two flowers behind the fence house a million stories,
Insurmountable for all to tell by.
For some it's just two unnoticible flowers,
For some it's the cradle of spring,
For some it's imagery of prison,
For some it's lovers in their haven,
For some it's forbidden opportunities,
For some it's consequence of a strife,
For some it's an offering to a loved one,
For some it's just the cycle of life.
They say that parallel lines never meet
What they don't see is that they walk together till infinity
if our souls were lines
mine is parallel to hers
close but never meet
Let’s pretend to be alive
Hearts blooming with the sounds of spring
Let’s pretend to see the stars
Staring up, making shapes, counting
Let’s pretend to fill it all in
When planets align
Questioning its very own existence
Time executes a treachery on itself
So … in a universe parallel to our’s
You and me
* In Quantum Physics there is a theory of Parallel Universes which states that there exist multiple universes which are exact copies of our own and there are multiple versions of us doing the exact opposite of what we do on ours.
Who doesn't lead you
Who doesn't follow you
Who holds you, parallel
All the way
Be sure about it
You are enough
To travel the time
Regard, how far
You have come
Theme: People crossing the way
Reflections in broken mirrors
through watery eyes.
Maybe it's not the mirror that's broken.
If only I was able to get to the other side.
I'd see tears on a red face
and see pain and hurt and sadness.
There's no sound on the other side.
The mirror isn't broken and neither are any of the people there.
They're all empty.
They can't help us from the other side.
They just watch.
Wait, what side am I on?