It took 24hrs of disagreeing for me to realize
the rise coming from a not quite round sun.
In spite I despised looking at the uptight frown
hung within a withering silhoutte; disguise none.
No one replied as black eyes quietly watched
the white-washed silence pin-stripe my heart.
Dose overdone, this must be a potent drug
because I'm strung out on hope, holding on
to a 5lb lullaby close to a full grown song.
Clothe the unknown before it catches cold,
like the fire in my eyes that choke back
tears revoked to smoke out the emotion inside.
Smoldering pyre, you've reduced me to
a type of residue usually resigned for fools.
Who is left? I've turned every page deftly
and it became a sort-of unused roulette.
I'm just a muse's sketch, kept in the essence
of abused lungs; the breath between two persons
drawn in a lopsided dawn to be incomplete.
We are only unique until we die, then everyone
resides were they've decided what's wrong or right.
If only tonight can extend, because I've lost sight.
Touch me in the dark again with you're signature pen.
I started tracing "The End" once our revelry began.
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