Here comes the lonesome hours
So peaceful yet disturbing.
Every tick serves as a warning to look beyond the hanging walls. Maybe the time has its own way of stealing things from our control.
With its uncertain and decisive reason, one becomes the subject of fallacy.
If thy words become irrelevant, if thy thoughts become irrational,
and if thy sanity becomes judgmental, maybe time could take me home towards a place without a trail just branches of the labyrinth to see and momentary bliss of acceptance.
It is now my earnest desire-to flee from such abandoning embrace.
Shall you take me home? I don’t like to be here.
Every book becomes a dungeon, and every secret becomes known.
Shall you take me home?
Please see me behind the shadows,
and together let’s explore the darkness.