One day it will come at your feet,
like the brush of a wave in the sea,
one day you will realise,
the life you have created,
the air you breathe through your lungs.
You will stumble upon,
a certain voice saying,
this is your life, and now, this is you,
these are the memories you share,
and long for some time.
One day, you will contain all of these,
when you finally see,
you cannot simply replace them,
but taking these recollections,
one by one, through the other,
and somehow, you will be grateful,
that you are here,
and there will be no other person just like you.

Do ya ever feel like a shipwreck adrift in the water
Pieces of ya scattered like a lamb after the slaughter,
a mere shadow of your former sweet innocence
barely bobbing above the big sonar rinse?
Can't believe what ya read
nor believe what your supposed to believe.
Can't help wonderin' bout the agenda
Definitley can't pretend not to.
I suppose ya just have to go a bit numb
Drift on the wave and play kinda dumb.
CCTV surveillance, so called necessity,
oh **** big brother's watching ya ***.
Google is god and god is dead
Oh **** the'll crucify me for what I've just said.
Street lights ain't just street lights anymore
they're stickin' cameras in 'um expecting us to eat crow.
We'll all be robots that's the plan
punch ya in, download, scan.
Chips in your brain, chips in your nose
they'll go with us wherever we goes.
The grammar's all wrong. It's the prediction text.
No need for fingers. it's all effortless.
We're losing our common sense and our low-fi cities.
I'm losing my mind and I dont even feel ******.
They're cuttin' down trees 'cause they're blockin' our signies
and burnin' and lootin' 'cause they've got some agendies.
We're loosing our birds, they're falling out of the sky.
Would connecting the dots lead us to  the wyfry?
Losing's all right once ya get the hang of it.
Be fine in the mornin' and get back in the swing of it.
Turn on the screen, see what's new,
choke on our Krispies 'cause we forgot to chew.
Ah who cares our thoughts ain't our own.
It's all covered and programmed by our phone
Yea
It's all fun and games when there's nobody home,
dinner's sprayed and modified to the bone.
God knows what's in the water, the vaccination.
No worries we're all sci-fried and on vacation.
Ah yea they've got us all pegged and amplified,
can't sleep anymore, we're all irradiated and wyfried.
Wyfry, shake, scramble, grill an' bake
uhuh it's the burnin' down of the human race.
ah yea it's the slow fry and burn at the stake.

For the passing day,
the day mends,
the day follows the unison movement,
of your silhouette,
this consumable force you ****** in me,
are you my amorous joy,
a gliding dew that tickles the corner of my lips,
or the steady architecture of the anthill,
in its demarcation to defy the limits of love,
to bring the spirit of solitude,
the transcendence of our youth,
can it be for a moment or eternity,
that I am totally dissolved,
transforming your pain,
into red and yellow flowers,
the colorful penumbra of the rainbow,
and what does it give you: all of me.

Again,
there is an indication,
of tenderness between us,
it is like a pillow resting your head,
the onset of the new moon,
as is, that you and me repeats for its need,
rustling like a wing,
for once more,
you continually swarm me with your love,
your love that opens,
the wilderness of my heart,
and if your eyes are the only thing,
that sees me: habitually pleasing,
alluring in all familiar ways,
precedent and preferable,
and if it beckons to shape whatever,
we thrive for,
if it is longing or constant admiration,
you are favored to me my capricious one,
leave no traces or red kisses,
for I will miss you in every mild footsteps,
of the rain filling the earth,
with your warm welcome.

Each time,
I look at you,
may it be your face,
your lips,
your eyes,
or your shadow,
leaning against the tree,
I know,
I just know,
that this life,
is more than its circulation,
how long is eternity,
to be able to let you know,
how every thing becomes a little gift,
a grace uplifted from the heavens.

You do not know,
what it means to me,
to be true,
to be just by myself,
taking this moment,
in the pursuit of loving you,
with all that I am–
with all the inherent nature of necessity,
as it beckons to proceed to my willingness,
or to be thrilled,
even to be summoned particularly,
with your most intimate self:
the degree of closeness.

I personally believe,
it is the past that keeps on resurfacing,
but I am not quite conclusive enough,
to partake with these thoughts,
though somehow I am driven,
to be graceful upon my consent,
and I will rather choose being the one,
who is opt to lose this emotional event,
whether to love or in hopes,
that I can proceed further to my passions,
the virtues of my routine,
and cultivating my sense of self,
independent of my surroundings,
to create a bond of self-love.

I have made it for my self, made it through, or if I am mistaken, it is a relative coincidence within the constructs of my personal tenet. Is this air, the symbolism of breath, is this the fire that I happen to touch in your body, is this sorrow that a willow leans on the ground to see her reflection in the river, is this what it means to live, to sink into deep  and shallow waters, to tally its admonitions, or it happens to be there already and I am not understanding the language, the proverbial sum of love and loss, my longings, my mysteries and incisive idealism?

“To have loved you,
and wound myself:
heaven only knows why
I have succumbed to this emptiness,
darling, you have killed me by loving you– seconds, minutes, hours and lifetime.”