Beyond The Glass

A brightness of Glasses

I don't want to be a fighter with a knife, 

The bounds on the grocery line, where you find the life.

The brightness that I couldn't keep, 

I'm full of unsolved flames, the same wounds might put me to sleep. 

I try, try, try to not feel the same hole,

The actions of my soul reveal a war, 

Stars and skies they drew, but my mind always drew a new scar. 

The feeling of being alive makes me want to build a cemetery, 

The lines on my walls, the one who counts them, everything is momentary.

The field of our poems is immersed in fire, 

The sparkle of glasses won't reflect higher. 

Because I'm still looking behind, thinking about the same script, 

I let bombs and missiles slip. 

The same door that my fingers will be gripped, 

The moments were quick steam. 

But I'm alive till a fortnight.