I have stories to tell, familiar tales. But my words are dressed with shame. To speak is to be looked at, never the same.
You’re like fine wine, bittersweet. A long lasting taste of hope. Different from words I’ve been told, Different from what I know.
A body without a soul is me. To stop the drifts when I’m all alone, I sold the soul in me. So hold me till I’m whole. Hold me so I can get a taste of hope. Hopefully I grow a soul but not the soul I sold.
I often ask myself what my purpose in life is So I can riddle my mind and understand it. I hate to say I hate who I’m becoming, And I must apologise for my shortcomings. “How did I end up here?” is a question I present while drumming but despite the anticipation, there is no … Continue reading Hate to Say
With slow unsure steps I ended up here alone. Every cry was a release of an emotion I once felt. Now an island, surrounded by an ocean of tears; The tides separate me from your soul, a love I once feared.
It is hard to take the first step. I would but I have never been so afraid. If love is truly in the sphere, then, this is a flight of faith.
I asked my Genie to take me. I asked her to grant my wish in days. She told me, "If you have gotten to this point so low where you only want to exist as a soul, why don't you start over and give life another go - but go slow. You're whole. Don't let … Continue reading Lost One