If my words would ever reach you,
it’s probably because of the twinge of affliction
that’s running through these lines

If my words would ever reach you,
I’d rather slip away from your hands
than get picked up by you

If my words would ever reach you,
it’s probably me who has given up
and grew tired of us

If my words would ever reach you,
I’d rather surrender the battle
than fight with you, side by side

If my words would ever reach you,
it’s probably because of the caffeine
injecting temporary sorrow

If my words would ever reach you,
I’d rather disappear in the sea of faces
and not look back at you…

…but as I turn around, I found you waving a bittersweet goodbye.

Are you truly my redemption?
Or just another lesson?

I once discovered
a garden bursting with colorful flowers.
It enchanted me that I walked..
and walked.. and walked.

When I got there,
I felt satisfied and secured.
And as the beautiful madness
of the butterflies' dance astounded me,
you created the world of 'us'.

But the ever-changing spectrum of impermanence
struck down everything I know.
Still, I continued walking down your garden.
I felt numb for a moment,
seeing the wounds carved through my flesh
by the thorns unseen
because it was brilliantly covered with perfection.

"Would you still continue walking despite the cuts?" asked the butterflies.

I felt the constant search for escape.
I'm now discontented.
The wounds are getting bigger and bigger.

"I don't know." is all I replied.