Do you ever see me walking,
With eyes watching my sky's falling,
Crashing down on the walls I built,
The walls I treasured ,
The walls I treasured,
How am I suppose to make my move,
When I'm bounded by these thorns,
I adore it when it blooms,
I thought it was only the remedy,
This is not the best move, I'm sure,
Didn't you realise that we both loss our way home?
Yet we dream to dreams,
No wonder we drifted in the nightmare streams.
I sorted my steps and crawl out of the night,
Supposedly everything should be in art,
Just because I didn't show any light,
Doesn't mean I don't have the thing that called heart.
And just because I pulled myself back,
It doesn't mean that I am incapacitated to start,
Please tell me you know,
How hard for me to open the chained door,
I don't want to do this no more,
Maybe I'll just let my self go,
until I dragged back to the shore,
You will tell me , won't you?
This is not the best move, I'm sure
I don't wanna be colourless
I used to be colourless
YOU ARE READING
42
PoetryI will keep writing until the chapter succeeds 41 and precedes 43. P/S : I do not own any of the illustration in this writings
