Stilling on a train
Balanced on the lines
Bleeding from the thoughts
Racing through my mind

Bracing both my feet
Ready for the end
Steeling for the crash
Coming round the bend

Feeling like I've lived
Enough for both our worlds
Turning the last page
Loving every word

Of ones heart with shadows lurking to take over spite is made precious to be felt exciting while it is in fact trecious, but a sleeping terror awakens at times as well, thus a rampage is made amongst it,
A thrill wandering down your spine when you wrong someone and see them tremble through your actions a cold shiver followed by spite
Choosing a carefree life, yet unable to hide the fact that no spark would be able to illuminate whats in your dark, where angels fear to tread, only to explore this loitering abyss within you for some time,
All this blood lust must bring you to insanity, make you a lunatic,
But let it happen, in this emotionless shell it's what feels majestic,
The storm raging inside, waiting to feed on this caused chaos,
Evil and vile, heartless not carrying a smile while mercilessly continuing this riot of a resented soul waiting, longing for destruction
Feeling alike to be burning up, priceless about this act of cruelty until the wanted realisation drives its way into your soul and you question yourself what you have done, or why you have done it for anyway,
But the time will come again for sure, so be ready for it to arrive
When the sleeping terror awakens for another dance

~ Umi

When the friends are cheaper than the pills
What am I supposed to buy?
When the *** don’t do and horror thrills
Shall I laugh or shall I cry?
When the high lasts longer than a word
Which am I supposed to take?
When the dream is sharp and reason’s blurred
Do I sleep, am I awake?
When the body’s hotter than the heart
Will it keep me warm at night?
When the love hurts better than the dart
Shall I kiss or shall I bite?
When the egos bigger than the deeds
Which am I supposed to praise?
When we cut the wounds and not the weeds
Is it life or just a phase?

Twisted metal
The thrill of it all
His hand cold instead of mine
God punish me

Our childhood's prime game;
Creating a paper plane.
Making it fly high,
But it never reached the sky.

We would continue to raise the bar,
But still we wouldn't get very far.
We would trust a redesign,
But never anything different from our own design.

We would work soley for ourselves;
To keep the success to ourselves.
We would spend all day redesigning a paper plane,
But never on redesigning our life's shame.

We live for a paper plane
And its thrill - day by day.
We would accept our life's flaws,
But never our paper plane's flaws.

We would live for irrelevant people and objects,
But never for our own salvation.
We would live with a self-opinionated attitude,
But why do we now live with our opinion based on that of the world?

We live like a paper plane;
Flying high, just to be redesigned.
The world never helps us stay sane
As we're always seen as a failed design.