Standing in the middle of nowhere
I remember that at the end of this dusty road, there are poor lights flickering
resembles my insides because of old times
(Oh! why is it still lingering?)
Spelling 'I knew it! They're lying!'
Using cryptograms as dancing lights to disguise the warning

And now i'm back in this alley
When did these things started bleeding the royal color?
backwards, i'm walking in roses and rubies and crimson reds from myself and really?
what's with these shattered glasses?
I think it's lousy to hide the lilacs and blue tulips within

Violets and blues are not blurring my views
It's like the red and green of my worlds i made up for years
these places are soft like the grasses where you lay down after a pouring rain
and a pavement where you sit after the april sun shines on it
I'm lost in the the way it could go back and forth

And behind these places is where i'm really a part of
is a fever dream even with the daylights on
A forest that is made with hollywood signs
Hazy, defeaning, pretentious but real
A storm in mid-september that is going on for years

The world is healing
As our worlds are crashing down.
But someone has to fall
So another can wear the crown.
But even if we have to resort
To eating beans and rice,
Isn't having a healthy earth
Worth the sacrifice?

I was watching Worlds—
Worlds far removed from mine.
They dissolved my notion of Import
along with my concept of Time.
I was watching Worlds—
Worlds far removed from mine.
I saw our disconnection
our thoughts have made us blind.
We're lost in Worlds inside of Worlds,
within Worlds made in our minds.

Endings a new Beginning
Beginnings of an End
Is it all a loop
Or just a straight line that never Ends
Ending of the world
Or just the End to Yours?
Just the Preamble
Or now the Revolution
I'm not sure of much Anymore
But I'm sure of a Thought
That this is the Ending of Worlds

I reside at the In-Between,
Just like the hyphen
joining those two words,
A silent flatline
in the midst of two worlds.

Nobody chooses In-Between,
Its vague monotony
is too loud to bear,
Each passing minute
confusing and yet, bare.

The frustration of In-Between
is knowing I’m the bridge
connecting them as one,
and longing to be both
but belonging to none.