I clouded my judgment and my innocence
I sin; but while I cry, You wipe my tears,
You soothe my angst, compelling me to through my misery
Narrating me a story: The untruth, the falsehood.
Where love is a mystery, life is hysteria
Leisure is solemn and work is priority.
“But wherefore shall this conclude? “ – I asked in hopelessness
Thinking vindictiveness is Constance in the life I have seen.
You retorted: This journey is endless,
And there is no passion
If you do not crave that topless trivet,
If you do not sustain that chide.
Because being a child is, then, pointless.
Because being thoughtless is, then, bungling.
Because we are two kids playing a game of lies
Because you paint your own story!
There is no pause, no stopping
But just to find the bridge to the other side
Just an escapade, worth walking
There is another day; darkness never lasts forever.