winter's dead, where is the sun?
in memory and a clenched fist,
for everything has changed before
our very eyes, and to adore
this growing illness is so hard,
just like not crying, trying to part
with knowing that it won't come back.
we took a wrong turn on our track,
and to turn right around would be
impossible, but if it could be
done, i'd do it on my own.
everyone's glued to their phone,
liking, sharing, commenting,
always doing some dumb thing.
and don't go into that blue night
with our expectations, we
might just return to symphony.
hope is here to stay; i know
that the love will never go
anywhere; it will just hide
in fear, but it is deep inside
us all, even those who determine
our fate, our sermon.
even though i know that you
are sick and tired of the fast
paced life, nothing like the past
with its daisies and its roses.
love is here; he overdoses
on it daily, and by he
i mean no one else but me.
but upon the end, i fight
life and these walls so deadly.
melancholia was a medley
for too long; it's time for change,
time to take life, rearrange
our priorities as one.
winter's dead, where is the sun?
Luka.