It was late that night,
He couldn’t help but remember himself.
The way he used to be,
The way he used to see,
This world from some other eye,
Now he can see all the angels cry.
He was there but not anymore,
People can see him but no one knows,
He isn’t the person they are meeting,
He isn’t the one they are looking for,
He is a soldier in the middle of war,
Heart seems winning, brain losing its throne.
Search for him in the crowd of fake,
Curse him as long as he can take,
He can take all the blames,
Just shout out his name,
Maybe he forgot to put on the mask,
Maybe for some more scars, she had asked.
He must have gone to the same old desert,
Where rains flood the land and flowers love to burn.
Thorns wait at the entrance,
Beneath those bed of rose,
He knew it will hurt,
Still that was the way he chose.
Now all he does is walk through and gift her joy,
Of the scars he has and the wounds as teddy toy.
All she does is decorate the same,
In a place where he hides his memories,
And hugs the pain,
Watching his past freeze, smiling as insane.
PS: Dear followers, Sorry for being little inactive. Will try to be active now as much as possible.
PS2: Wrote this few months ago.