cold nights,
dreary days
everything seems
to go one way…
the other way,
my way.
fast and cautious
people tread…
tread on paths…
paths that’s done
that’s done for them.
treading on surface
like crystals so bright.
paths and surface that
differ from mine.
like the cosmos
are the surface i tread,
bleak and dreary
and mostly dingy.
from days and on
our lives, lives on
our tragedies push through
our glories breaks through
we bare our pain and
be ready for the next day.
we see our lives as
though they pass by.
we set our goals and
ready our souls
for glory or tragedy
or whatever that may
fall.
in this story that we
ourselves play… we have
no clue what our future
may bring.
in this story that we
ourselves play… we have
but little control on the
outcomes that we make.
