Pen - pen: Disarm my Pain

COLD BREEZE

This is not a detergent,
Nor a cleaning powder,
My window is still open right now,
And I am here staring at the bright moon,

I do feel warm hug of my blanket that surrounds my empty soul,
and the warm milk on my glass,
The pen is working and it's ink is dying,
While I my voice is shaking continuously,

I'm just trying to write a song about an experience that I didn't experience at all,
those thoughts that I assume they might feel when experiencing aches,
How do I touch their hearts through their ears?
If I, myself can't comprehend the words that my mind and mouth spills?

I was just a cold breeze in the middle of the night,
Where I fuel the camp fire with my wind,
A soft touch, so tender and mild,
Leaves you dry, and frosted with ice,
A minute or two,
The vibes might die,
No wonder why I am playing the guitar,
With a slow noticeable sigh,

You are welcome to witness the zenith of my breakdown,
Where I was petrified and my mind was tangled,
Pick the best seat and watch me fight,
Using this words presented on your screen,
Have fun and Goodnight.