After a week of struggling, your arms welcome us in a sweet embrace. We feel our worries melting away, our hearts slowing down to remember our present. Tomorrow we'll go back to work, but today we let go of everything.
You're fresh air, a serene sunset by a loved one. You're a lazy morning, and a noon filled with laughter. You're a tranquil night under hopeful stars. Thank you, Sunday, the day of our biggest star.
I wonder why blood stains everything crimson. I wonder why there is warmth over my wounds. I wonder about pitch blackness and banal barrage of banter. Death must bear both secession and segregation. The malleable dreams of power, intoxicated within the soul for the sole purpose of manipulation. This morbid fascination of mine, the necromancy, the dried chrysanthemums, lonely funeral of dreamers. The ghastly gibberish of how glib will be the gist and glimmer, this gossamer graphic of grudgingly grimaced genes. This false dapper will be consumed as it is, no regrets over and nothing with legacy. Everything will perish.
I wonder if I'm smiling anymore. I wonder if the full moon of evangelism will caress me anytime again. I wonder if it's the time for finale. Hate must thrive on the substratum of love. Hatred must live, no matter what. The belittling from bishops, the beratings of being blithe. My hands have blame on them, the accusations of throwing away the wisdom of wayward, tainting the welfare, these willful waivers, waning with wanton waste, all waylaid with a wry of wretched, the wrought called withering with it. The world will learn insanity, it will rain on that day. The airspace will ravage the innocence of mankind, morality will meet mortality, kindness will be the killing of kins. Let the ancestry be my onlooker, i said so, i learned so and i did so. Everything will migrate, onto afterlife.
I wonder who will take the stand betwixt absolute justice and straight out madness. I wonder who will pray for the shrines and deities, when the priests will die. I wonder who is talking from underneath my ideology. I wonder who will meet her, just to fall for her and then to hold her against the heavens. I wonder who will reach out to this sorry soul of mine, forcing me to break this mold of manumit. I wonder if it's alright, as it all should be, just like her words. I wonder what friends are for. I wonder why death is necessary. I wonder why loved ones leave. I wonder why dreams are made. I wonder about the sunlight. I wonder about dragonflies. I wonder about music. I wonder if it's okay for me to breathe a lil bit.
I love to talk. I do get happy. I like winters. I never held a grudge against november. I will not write intimacy. I will love this phase of mine. What's changed ? Nothing, neither the facts, nor the life of sins. Everything will change, and it is must to be of the same order. The origin, the divergence, the saltation and the prophecy. It is bound to happen. It will happen. Maybe, this time, my stories too. The trade of fate, the gamble of emotions they said, the soothing i heard.
I wonder if all eyes will be on me again. Who knows, it's a drag right. Until the end of time. To agony, to affection, to glory and to centuries, nobody speak, moloch's dead.