I learn to feel, as the blood falls down my eye.
Is what’s mine not meant to be given?
Is it meant to be understood?
Flowers blossoming, such that none ever notice.
Do they feel sad too?
What is meant to be given, is also taken.
Polarity mixing into my cup, I drink.
Hard to balance on the scale of judgement.
I pray for peace and solitude arise.
Love and this feeling bring tides.
Drowning in pain that brushes my lips.
All just to feel, something that reminds me of life.