Hello again, heartless friend.
So slyly in the backgrounds blend.
Your veering vanish, vaguely here.
Your gaze of increments - insincere. 
Healer of the hearted scars.
Swallower of the heavened stars.
The paths in which we dream and delve.
Allow the doubling ones to twelves.

Slices of the eternal elude.
Movements of monstrous magnitude. 
A hesitant dawdle. A lingered delay.
The mountainous sway is steered away. 
Hoarded heaps of hourglass bliss.
Outnumbered by wasted nothingness.
With interludes of want, of miss.
To slowly morphed indifference.

The pendulums that abruptly swing.
The burdens they still hope to bring.
The envied earn of Earth's endeavor.
The better late. The better never.
The eerily empty echoed need.
The blossomed tree from planted seed.
The curse of a continuous grief.
The ever stealthy, silent thief.

The cogs, gears, hours and hands.
The burn of beauty, bleak and bland.
The coziest, surrounding choke.
The whelm from the transparent cloak. 
The running out. The ever essence.
The grand keeper. The watchful presence.
The potential of the plainest plan.
The currency of the wisest man.

What horrors - hallowed by the tick.
Will sound for both healthy and sick?
Will compose secrets, never told?
Will fumble flame to frigid cold?
The end stays always promptly nigh.
For the intimate, infinite blink of eye.
I fear your wasting, more and more.
The constant count to twenty four. 

Unresurrectable and second to none.
Airborne, regardless of having fun.
As retrospective wisdom blinds.
Our youthful hopes and manic minds.
On and on. From time to time. 
Song to song and rhyme to rhyme.  
Betrayer of all mice and men. 
Less of if and more of when.

Isn't all this,
That we do,
Just a sheer waste of time?
All this could finish right there,
The earth could end,
With a sign nowhere.
What is the purpose of this?
We all are born,
We all live, we all survive,
We all struggle,
And a few shine,
When this could end any moment,
Isn't all this a sheer waste of time?

Why do we work hard,
If unsung we all have to die;
Why is it so difficult
To say goodbye?
Does reincarnation really take place?
Or is this planet actually,
Just a figment of somebody's imaginative space?
So much of hard work,  
Is put into those inventions.
Life is pretty complex,
With all those tensions.
What if the the world had to end,
At this very time,
Before you could even read this line?

This is all so purposeless,
We are fighting with our inner selves.
We are completely oblivious
Of what's out there;
About the big picture,
We have no clue,
We don't even think about such stuff,
Since we are busy with our own blues.
Caring for somebody,
Or letting out a whine,
If no one is listening,
Isn't all this a sheer waste of time?

What if our prayers are not heard,
Rather, are merely coincidents?
What if the moments we wish for,
**Are already destined to happen the next?

What's a piece of paper gonna
Do when you're dead?
Has it been worth the meds?

Loser, loner.
A coward who pretends to be tough.
A mean delinquent,
In the mirror, I'm
JUST A LOSER
A loner, a ******* covered in scars.
***** trash.

And I'll, be foretelling in time,
no matter how hard I try,
I'll always be a wasted life.

So this is my goodbye

Wake me when I,
have the courage to die.
Cause I'm too modest to try.

I am a wasted life&
I'll be fortelling in time

**That this is my goodbye

Do not waste your looks on a man's wandering eye.