New data comes in and refined
Using past encounters and memories alike
Critiques the story’s every side
To assign a meaning that should be right
A thought that usually needs more than one head’s light
Seeks to be processed by the one who writes.

We always look for a chill pill,
For the cravings we can never satiate --
So we could get close and feel
How one's sun can radiate.

Bliss is what it brings,
Enslaved by cheap highs,
Despite knowing that it stings,
It escapes us from our sighs.

Now we puzzle in misfit pieces,
Weaving universes in lost time,
We see the future graced with non-existence,
We see rhythm that will never rhyme.

We bid sorry to another probability,
Give up on a possibility we dare not disturb,
Hoping Time can set us free,
Wishing the free spirit not to remain in curb.

Often, we learn not to accept,
Rather, how to live with things.
The structures that were left,
Are ruins marking memory of feelings.

Before you, you see what was,
What will never be.
Hoping each day it'll pass,
From pain, one be free.

You wake up and convince yourself,
Drown life with distractions.
Tomorrow, you won't get help,
Letting the autopilot be set in motion.

For whatever its worth,
You survived before.
But just because you've fought,
Absence of sting isn't assured for.

Is this what ought to be,
Are these the sights I wanna see?
Is this how I wanna feel,
Each day the sunrise turns real?

This was dreamland of yesteryears,
Now a solid ground for hope and fears.
Young and stupid or old and wise?
Breathe; and tell yourself what applies.

Live; and remember these days,
This surely is a way how a story plays.
Gravitate towards your center,
There are new places we're about to enter.

There's something about this rain.

There's water.
Not any other water.

They come from homes,
rooms, streets, anywhere.

This is what I need for the solitude;
For a man still burning like a church on fire.