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Sailing Along a Thin Icicle
How insane can you become?
Some people with no hearts, nor soul
to spoil your fun.
No love anymore just hate and hopelessness.
Why does the boat purposefully tip?
Sailing along a thin icicle.
No grip, ice melting, don't know why.
Psychologically melting my mind.
To jump or fall?
It suddenly rebuilds with twinkly sparks.
To sail you to the nearest landmark.
Where's the sun?
It keeps me sane.
Pushed into the dark, where lingers pain.
I'm so ridiculed, but my myself.
Suffering silently, no more help.
Is it a dream or just a cover?
Concealing the truth from unpredictable others.
