A Journal of Sorts
"and you hurt me inside, knowing and killing my pride trying to take control, changing my path, I fear the passion I'm falling ... in a dream, the automatic future seems like monster destiny, chaos, illusion of my mind echoes from nowhere, memories from emotions broken desires, living thoughts I fear your psychotic serenity, nervous disturbance of mind and waves of negatic energy, dying slow and tired ~ Lacuna Coil ~ dying love drags me back to places better left behind... it does not seem to matter what I do what I write every day is still the same still the same it feels unjust and unkind it does not seem to matter through the day through the night every day is just an echo just an echo of the day I lost my mind just an echo just an echo of the day I left behind and I read to take myself to far off places to mysteries and adventures that are beyond this time and space as I used to sing to release all the feelings I seldom sing seldom sing feel like a corked bottle ruminating memories of running in place and it does not seem to matter (does not seem to matter) what I do what I write every day is still the same still the same it feels unjust and unkind it does not seem to matter (does not seem to matter) through the day through the night every day is just an echo just an echo of the day I lost my mind just an echo just an echo of the day I left behind (but look deeper and innoence shall find moments of truth are never left behind) dragging, but still alive unconscious will survive |
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