Has little to care what the soul likes,
Devoured and devoid of the will to look within,
Fancying true love is an hope too thin.
Daydreaming was once fulfilling,
Giving hope of what tomorrow would be,
A heart that wants to be seeing,
That others don’t see.
Knocking at the door of your heart,
Without a wonder or care of tomorrow,
There is no room for sorrow,
Emotions paint a picture in art.
Togetherness in chaos and peace,
Soul knows inseparables are meant to be,
Like promises from aeons running deep,
You can tell apart you were meant to meet.