I remember late nights when they meant freedom.
My kind of excitment was walking and feeling the cool, brisk air.
There was always a hint of hope and the night sky was a never-ending blanket of souls.
The stars had secrets to hold,
As I always have secrets to tell.
Godspeed, I would say alone
Because six feet under could happen at anytime.
That's a bit of pessimissim sprinkled with honesty.
Move on.
The sea of darkness was alive,
Just barely illuminated with street lights.
I had a home in the black, but I always chose your front door.
Can you feel yourself change when you grow?
Can you say your heart thinks just like mine?
And if I decided to send a raven would I send it towards a haven or hell?
Who could tell?
See, my definitions lack your kind of taste.
That's why they're mine.
I know what I'm putting myself through
And though this is not a fight I will have war.
.
.
.
We are the same.
