As I reach for the top to read the sunlight after dark verses of the cloudy night,
All that gets before my eyes is cloudy night, again, as it was before,
I think for staying there for a while, at least this is what I got,
Leaving it all that was bound to be left behind in arms of beautiful times.
Years and years strangely lifting off veils shook me off my veins,
And years so are continuing to shook me off with daily veils off from the days,
A little more able to shock is to believe that its all for nothing, as it always was,
Heading off misguided feet to failures that they always will be.
A little upside to this there is, I’m here to encrypt it all in these words,
Moral of the story could be this; it all can be burnt but it still will haunt me back,
There never was meant to be a story at all, but now if there’s it,
Be it bad and let it find its own stream.
No thought ahead of this, swaying if any of all of them would make way for me,
A plea that will be answered through unwispered misery pending on my lips,
A thought, a state covering all of my waste, my being, will be congratulated,
When time comes, it enlightens my steps and makes me see the sunlight again.
I wish you could read my mind or I shall come to you to get it read,
I couldn’t spot the destinations way beyond my destination I thought it was,
I want to guide you of the stop I’ve encountered, nothing to do, nowhere to go,
I will tell how to make though all of it, but I can’t make though it by myself.