May the wind blow
through the skin of those who,
dying, just want to live.

Confusion cells
and sells...

The sane withdraw madness 
not to do some foolishness
to regret when the times pass.

But in the end,
mad or sane,
to live is necessary
for life to be made.

And life needs making,
progress needs attention.

The low cost of feelings
and the heart being only a thing to be On,
pumping like crazy till we gone,
will eventually have to end:
cause we're dying down here,
we're dying.

No purpose
and life a struggle
when you give yourself
not receiving.

 
The night dark eyes
to guard shine streams of beautiful dreams.

Till then
await.