I was staring at the blank ceiling, wondering why it's so plain and dull. These walls that have known me for so long has no life, but it has been understanding and patient. Something may not be right, but for so long I've been chasing a butterfly which is very odd and peculiar and now all i see is fog. Everyday I've been seeing dawn at daylight, I've been picking roses from desert, I've been chasing happiness on the other side, and I've been setting aside the loneliness and emptiness that I'm keeping.
What is it left to hear? What is it left to see? What is it left to feel? I couldn't say a word. I couldn't think of a memory. But what is it left for me, dear? Have i gone too far enough? Have i been holding on from something you couldn't give? Have I fallen out of love? What is it on your mind i couldn't perceive and comprehend? Have I kept it for so long and was gone after each beat that i feel in my living heart? I just couldn't step on the surface of the ground, save me from this floating thick air.
I am breaking down every millisecond of the moment, everything is elusive. I would be gone, finding myself from this subtle smile.
The flower blooms and grows, but the scent doesn't stay for too long. Nothing last.
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