The silence always makes the music more beautiful. I can never seem to peak like I do in the dark, under the sun, on the train, in your gaze. When you sing like that, what makes you think I won’t want to know how your mind is so beautiful. I want to see it, to remove myself from the life that is so over-flowing in misery, your voice soars higher than than them all.  Is my voice as beautiful as your mind? And does my playing enchant you so? Return to the same place only to confront your own shadow and faces blinded by growing zeros. I used to escape those I thought I loved to search for a wild love among those of the railway tracks, and everything was so beautiful back then. But right now what was once second nature has turned into a dead end. And with no moving forward I’m going to have to make it on my own. Each step out in this world hurts, and with each new step regret washes over like the waves on a beach. Is this place indelible? It is haunting to think I could never escape from this, a shade of the person I used to be. That I can never take a step into the world without my dreams abandoning me on the concrete. I have to run away from the things which linger like a shadow that I can even see in the night. It’s impossible now to open my eyes and look at the emeralds and rubies without being reminded of my nightmares. Questions that may never be answered and perpetual doubt rings in my mind as I wade further into a deep sea.



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