Description
I sail in the ruins,
O, visceral things…
Searching one last whit of your remains
in dirty little secrets…
Am I who I could be
sleepwalking these streets?
I lost my marbles maybe
to Greta Garbo smile
•
Am I anywhere near to be anyone’s muse
’cause, I’m vague and vagrant,
mining hidden sides of love
and laughter
I must begin anew,
spark my inner fuel
and design a closure…
•
Sometimes I like playing
the engine of esteem
Came to spy on feelings dressed up in
greater dodgy meanings
Am I who I should I be
acting through a leash?
My words will never rhyme but
blast to kingdom come
•
To be anywhere near
the big metaphoric end?
All of this will crumble.
How grandeur is a funny maze
as you grow older?
Am I anywhere near
to seed these myths of love
and laughter?
Somehow the night never fails me
to regain me that feeling
I must begin anew,
spark my inner fuel
and define an act of closure
And now, I must fold myself into
a paper aeroplane
go after that feeling.
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