Thin fine red threads of love, Slowly connects you and me, Memories that I long to make, Now they are all that I see, Gentle breeze of fate, Pushing me towards you.. And all the uncertainty bid us adieu, And I let nature play it's role.. That connect all the pieces, And gradually makes us whole.. So I took you in my arms, And forward we walked along, With satisfaction and smile on my face, Enjoying sounds of your laughter like a song, You and I were all there was, Playing hide and seek with time cause, We couldn't allow it to find us.. So you hid in me, And I buried my self in you, I wouldn't come out for the world.. The best hiding place, Places my ear against your heart Oh wait I can hear something race~ Hehe.. You were like a sun to my sky.. But you were shining even brighter, So buried my self even deep, And hugged you even tighter.. And more and more memories kept emerging, And every feeling kept merging.. The thread kept binding me into you.. And then I kissed your forehead... And sealed every memory with our next kiss,
It's been twenty hours since you left, have counted each seconds and every breath, And no I can't forget, All the miles we have driven, I know.. I have clinged to my past for too long.. I knew you didn't like it.. But for me you played along... But I also know. All my mistakes.. All my regrets.. Will wash away somehow... But I can't forget the way I feel about you right now.. Cause to me.. You represent all the wonders, Of this world, You turn me to gold from cinders.. Cause you are mine you little girl..
I know I did let you down... I know I am not always around.. I know I should have tried more.. And I know I have done all this before... But you know it too That I still do love you.. Don't you? So tell me.. What if I weave our, Every single memory, And bury it in our heart, Or hang it in it's gallery,
I know how it feels to be nothing, When you see false things in false light And even life starts bluffing, Feels like you have already lost the fight Like a flame which can't ignite, And every bit of hope is out of your sight.
I know how it feels when you have been done wrong, And life itself becomes a syndrome, And those scars, they dont soften, Dont even have a place you can call home, So you start to live in your own coffin.
I know how it feels to be alone, Left alone on that shelf, And life becomes a constant hell, And you start doubting yourself And can't even hear your own voice Even if you yell.
I know how it feels. Trust me I have gonna through that too, When you trying to keep them together, But they break you in two.. When you look in the mirror, And wonder are you really you..
My home bears nothing that is broken. You walk in through the door Into a carpeted room With neatly arranged board games and A spotless desk, waiting to be worked on. The couch has no animal fur, Though the cat purrs at you. And the rugs thrown over them are undisturbed. The glasses on the coffee table are still upside down. And the water jug has no messy prints on it. The glass shelves play host To knickknacks Trophies and books Which never made it on the bestseller shelf. There are no pictures though. I love paintings and that's it. The kitchen looks inviting. I designed it to be so. And a dummy would know what goes where The moment he would look around. My stove top is clean and the pans are scrubbed. There is a faint hint of basil in the air From the last pizza slice I just heated. The silverware is all shiny and have no pairs. As if I worked on all my mother's recipes To make them for just one person. The refrigerator is not empty and there is nothing In it that I don't like. The bedroom opens to a view of a park. I like watching the kids play in the sand pit. They seem..carefree. as if the math homework will be dealt with After an hours playtime. My light lamp needs to be replaced. I like to read in bed and I keep on moving it On the table and accidentally falling it over, eventually. You see, would I have had someone to whisper the words On my nape as I read them I wouldn't fiddle with the lamp so much. The bed is perfectly made. The quilt is crisply tucked in at the edges and the sheets smelled fresh from the dryer The layers of bedding keep the cold out, but it is not warm in there. The other end of the bedroom Opens to a balcony. There are stories there that I cannot sit through their telling. You see, they are so broken.. My eyes give in to this facade of being okay And the tears coming uninvited. Like, I said, My home bears nothing that is broken.