The very little of my wierd choices..
the shouts obscure and the silent noises..
the fright of my lost night, my dream of a pillow fight..
what kind a prayer it was..
to consolidate the unknown or to pause..
i would rather get ready for that perfect loss..
to his strange thoughts, of a state to engross..
my heart tamed, eventually unaware that it can be blamed..
to be in that disease, i was surely ashamed..
i was'nt a property, i was tired that i claimed..
if i would have wings n my soul still sings,
to the melody of the strings,and the pleasure it brings..
a life still in the game,never fought fr money or fame..
just to reach the peak of my aim, with all my strength n in God's name..