I think I know.
That you've taken the path of no return.
There wouldn't be any turning backs.
Not for an instance even.
I think I know.
that i am not even a memory now.
The doors would remain unlocked.
and the pathways, dimly lit.
no, not the bright light. Only shades of white.
Or possibly off-white. Grey.
May be you could could hear it. If you listen enough.
Words, no. Cries of a dead poet.
An unopened can of beer, half baked cake.
Follow the scents from your memory,
of the sweat that you wiped of my chest.
That night, it had rained heavily.
And yet, we were warm.
Find me now, before i cage myself in.
That you've taken the path of no return.
There wouldn't be any turning backs.
Not for an instance even.
I think I know.
that i am not even a memory now.
The doors would remain unlocked.
and the pathways, dimly lit.
no, not the bright light. Only shades of white.
Or possibly off-white. Grey.
May be you could could hear it. If you listen enough.
Words, no. Cries of a dead poet.
An unopened can of beer, half baked cake.
Follow the scents from your memory,
of the sweat that you wiped of my chest.
That night, it had rained heavily.
And yet, we were warm.
Find me now, before i cage myself in.