Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Tell me your dreams.

Step back and see,
How the world will be.
If you weren’t here,
And the darker skies were clear.

Would the sun still rise the way it does,
Or will the moon deny its scars.
Will they forget the lies we told?
Will they still act so cold?

Will she still sing those songs?
Thinking she could undo those wrongs.
Will there be another set of believes?
And the poets could stop being thought-thieves?

Will there be a shining ahead
Or will the hatred still keep itself bred
Will you and I still meet?
And this time with love, we’d greet?

Will this time, you’d hold back for a while.
And not tell me, that we’re living in denial.
Will there be, no lies or truths,
Just our little hearts and their wraths.

Will you and I still look at the sky,
Then look each other in eye,
Without breaking the glance,
The un-romantic romance.  

Will I find in your eyes,
What I’ve wanted to see.
A glare to hold on to,
Not a deception to be.

Or yet again, will you leave?
Telling me it’s mine, whether or not to believe.

Tuesday, 16 June 2015

If cigarettes could cure sadness.

If cigarettes could cure sadness, 
and the world could sing a lullaby.

If monsters could be unreal,
and angels could fly.

If Pandora hadn't opened the box of troubles, 
and in people we could rely.

If the sun wouldn't set each night,
and people didn't say goodbyes.

If, if only this could be fixed,
and this wasn't a lie. 

Sunday, 14 June 2015

Changing gears.

Waking up to the smell of alcohol and smoke, she made a mental note to begin again.

this time, from the scratch.