It's 5 a.m. and something needs to be done.
I remember this moment being easier
That subtle tide strolling between
nonchalance and roaring waters.
The melodic tune harmonizing between
empty space and turmoil
Where the fallen angel sings her tune
ever so enchantingly.
Waving over with one arm
Whilst shoving back with the other.
I remember this moment being something past neutrality
The words on these lines used to speak through,
hitting every gateway on the soul
as it left the heart.
And now the heart fails to mumble out
the phrases that don't reside there.
The soul fails to re-open those cob-webbed gates;
the steel doors whose knobs have locked
The melodies don't wind me in their nature
The water no longer cleanses the soul
What's left without the darkness
when no light can penetrate the void