I couldn't read.
I couldn't write.
The lines in between your heart and mine.
Lost focus —
The love is lost in magic.
The Abra ka dabra, yes the "hocus pocus".

Now, this air feels dry—
Are promises really meant to be broken?
Is it a season with staleness inevitable?

Aren't trees great with patience?
Silently they endure the winds and growth.
Even their death leaves them with a meaning.
Like a leader's selfless path.
An unyielding oath.

The sorcery of poetry...
Is that how it teaches the heart to empathize.
Which ultimately turns into our own vice...

I am feeling my breath flowing into my senses.
Living—and dreaming—up the glances

The only question that needs to be answered.
Should we believe in second chance?
Even just for instances.