This ink with which I write flows from my soul
Smells like coloured pine on manhattan skyline
Crystal blue skies do nothing but shade my anguish
As I listen to folktales from dear old time
...
making wishes on rainy skies
secretly wishing for shooting stars
as heavens angels fall
for a Second the fire filled sky illuminated
...
Under skies of screaming sunshine
Beside an alter of solemn promise
Gliding like fire on spirited waters
As poise as the roses of summertime
...
Tell Me
This ink with which I write flows from my soul
Smells like coloured pine on manhattan skyline
Crystal blue skies do nothing but shade my anguish
As I listen to folktales from dear old time
I reminisce on wishes stolen by scavenging hawks
If I could redo a thing I'll sell off my emotions for a penny at birth
The price of truth has kept me humble in silence
The realities I've seen a movie with no genre
I write this letter to you who is me in me when am ready to be me.
Si omnia essent aequalia Et attollit in caelum (if all things were equal mars will rule the skies)