The calm of noon breathes through me
forming lulls of lyrics down my back
There is no right place in this world
yet we search for its beauty to unfold
Like a plucked blossom in the palm of my hand-
its simplistic art too will fade
losing its nectar
as its surroundings absorb its light
So why do we tread and trip toward our end
The sun will set and rise again
in between we're just living in a state of silence
where images weave in and out
planting seeds in our minds
merely to keep us alive
All I know
is that the sun in bright and I live for the night
but my voice will not be heard
I'm drowning here.
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