the lonely nights leave me sighing high
in nostalgic I render this self a song
with a hope that another night shall come with a cure
and in hope I live the song I sing.
wandering everywhere, yet standing rooted here
my experience tells me a story, weird and strange
of a man missed his childhood games once ago
and in sad tone the guitar he strings powerfully for a song.
wallowing in self pity I understand not what’s empathy
until the years that roll by gives me a wake up call
this life ain’t yesterday’s slothful dream
nor will there ever be a hopeful tomorrow to live by
only the present, the solid manifestation.
I learn that every man who yearns for truth
must first shackle the sympathizing emotional brute
for the emotion shall repeat each man’s death many times
before the final hours arrive to say the last rites.
hardened habits form a feeling concrete
hard to be broken to zero,
nor chiseled unto shapes wonderful;
yet I am striving facing the trial of challenges
so one present shall arrive when I will be alone
without a feeling to cry in sadness
without a feeling to laugh in happiness.
when the moment come, I will surely know
because the neutrality of entire feelings shall be known;
the seamless bliss as promised surely shall arise
and I will let the bliss murder me in it once and for all
for that death I wish, shall become His ultimate call.
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