So real your lips sipping mine,
So long the streets that traversed our time,
So low the stairs of white tiles and blue lines,
So fast the red van that turns as we panic,
So clear the events and it was sublime,
So untrue the dream was, it was a manic.  . .
So close to being real, but it's just a dream ,we cannot have it.

Let it die. . . Let it die

The moments you lie,
The baggage in your mind,
put it down and burn it up.
hate the revolution that you created,
join the restoration of the world you have wasted.

Let it Fly. . . Let it fly.

Up in the sky,
before I die,
I want to see you,
Waving goodbye,
and with my wings I will glide.

Let it flow. . . Let it flow.

Down and down and down we go,
And when you bathe yourself in the rain,
let the pain and tears hide their way
****** into the drain. . .
go away, go away.

HE. . .

staring at everything like we are nothing,
you give him words,
yet he doesn't respond.
he has life,
but doesn't live it. . .
He talks sense. . .
and it is written long. . .
But at the end of it all. . .
It is ****** in a vortex of none. . .

Hello my hallow yellow bell,
can you please swear to me these,
this restlessness , I have to dismiss
An advent that is cemented to me long ago.
a path, a trail, an engraved part of tommorow.

Hello my hallow yellow bell,
How are you today?
I do believe that againts the odds we would last,
count every breaths you take and every smile and laughs you make
like a sandless hourglass.

What is a choice?

Is the one you choose for your heart?
An option that you need not to ignore?
or the awkward decision that forces you to submit to what is inevitable?

A tragedy turned to romance is a tragedy worth dying for,
A Fact that progresses as a fiction,
A fantasy, an Illusion.

Oh me, Oh my. . .

Is there any solution for this confusion.
incarcerated in a cell deprived of emancipation.

Every ounce of me is a whole of us. . .
Every inch of you is a universe of me. . .
You are a proof of hope that they seek,
You are the straw in the hills of needles that is Love.
so never ask me why I'm soaked in blood when I found you.
for if I did not climb that summit of you. . . then I won't find me too.

There is this day that was once true,

a day when every fathers heart turns into a marshmallow,

growing and melting in a rainy day hot chocolate.

There is this day that was made just for you,

but then again, I have no one to drink my hot chocolate with,

or watch the rain fall and these marshmallows float...

I sit here with my cup frozen and still.

There are these days that days like these that I wish you'd become true,

For these are the days I wish I could utter these words to.