If you were a book,
I'd read you again.

If you were a ride,
I'd wait in line.

If you were my dream,
I'd never awaken.

If you were a star,
I'd never look down.

If you were a flower,
I'd never look up.

If you were mine,
I don't know what I'd do;
But I'd do it.

The silent scream of the grave,
Crying for justice,
From equinox to solstice,
Deafening howls that prayers cannot stave.

If you craved it long enough,
To live, breath and constantly agonise,
Even the constellations soon realise,
Reversing a bad situation is not that tough.

A man whose time has come,
His darkness shines brighter than the morning,
Shadows are always running,
As success is the new morning.