I float upon a veil
that conceals all my frightening
why worry about tomorrow if today
is yet to unfold?
the things one does for one's soul!
to trade sensation for desperation
means forgetting about the present
and giving in to a sadistic temptation-
the cards have been made,
the sword still hangs by a string,
day follows night in this eternal chase;
I am but a leaf of the tree
that never stays young,never grows old-
why become my demon's prisoner
when the gates are merely smoky feathers?
sunny strokes grace the earth,
while birds pierce the sky
in search of new celestial peaks-
why can't I let my mind
grow wings and soar?
privileged curses bind me to the ground
and make this sweet perdition
why do I always question the things
which are already answers?