Lost upon an island of dreams,
off the coast of utter insanity,
I break apart from the pack,
as to where I wander, alone.
Underlining the dying of one’s hope
Lest we prepare for war, if not
For the troubles, we seek to note
A boat I require to set sail once more
Washed ashore from a broken spirit
Can you hear it, the voice of reason?
But it may as well be a kind of treason
A season of ash and distraught doom
May such a gloom be brought to justice
But on such an occasion as this
May we find bliss, and live in peace
And at least I may find comfort
Amongst the dirt of the forgotten land
Where man shall forget all his worries
That which hurry to destroy one’s self
And on a shelf, my heart remains
Waiting for her to arrive in plain sight
Where the bright night sky shines
As the waters flow, amongst the bough
Of a living soul, whereas my goal
May be to live a life with my loved one
But to none, it may seem like somewhere
In the air we breathe, the passion we bleed
And for us, you see, it is love that we need.
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