inflamation (go back »)

Tonight is the night when I fly away.
To chase my spirit whose seams has frayed.

As I soar, I reach out to touch.

But it flies to fast, too fast too much.

What can I do to get it back?

What can I say to make it stay?

Oh how much I’ll miss it, my requiem’s dreams.

I’ll need it more each day it seems.

I cannot keep up, I must descend.

All I can do is hope it comes back again.