Perhaps I never listen to you in the way you wanted me to do.
Please try to understand that the way to here is laid down by sorrow.
It’s never been easy to see how we end up and to wich and with who.
I have always lived in the moment and never looked for tomorrow.
Can’t believe how a heart can be teared apart and left, still beating and bleeding.
True, oh yes the truth is more subtle and hidden than the deepest secret in mind.
Never gave up and I, like Phoenix scorch, in the attempt to touch you in the meeting.
Perhaps I didn’t feel the same way as you but always thinking we were the same kind.
Perhaps it’s not meant to be acknowledge or even recognized as the right step.
Sometimes it feel’s as it is the task you can never win and all is to the bin.
Perhaps we forgot to talk about us and lifes anxiety and what is left when we bow our neck.
Sometimes I can’t see coz’ my world get blurred by sparkle of tears but it’s still beautiful.
Perhaps it’s all inside of me, or what’s left of what I once gave.
I tried to understand what is in it, do you remember how it used to feel?
Maybe the mind is already settle and only waiting for the deep dark grave.
My embrace is with both arms and with the care for you without any deal.
It’s been nights screaming in full pain and days of relentless howl.
Now we must raise our heads and face tomorrows lonely whisper with pride.
I grew strong by the hand you gave through the mirrow to touch my soul.
Perhaps I never told you, and always denied all of my being, in what I tried to hide.
Perhaps I really did take your presence for granted and just let time pass away.
Sometime I think if we only look back, we will find the story of us still untold.
Perhaps I never learn to understand the power left in a heart so broken.
Sometimes I see duality, like the light split up but still entangled unable to let go.
Perhaps I will one day see the point and smile a bit to the face looking back at me.
Please try to see me as you did before your requirements twisted out of sight.
I have seen past lifes regrets and now I gaze so longing across the sea.
Oh, oh yeah I know, the time never seem to be right and we end in the everlastig fight.
Like the tide we flood and we retire to leave the ground clean and to no traces of love left.
In my opinion we are leaving ourselves in the hands of Poets showing the same feeling.
It’s never been really fair coz’ we sometimes fill the wrong persons dream with our own theft.
Perhaps we are all the same and just segregate different, like the taste in how we do our whealing.