Wilbyrne

My heart is in flames, and it never ceases When I remember, I love you to pieces. A future with you is the future that I painted, But a future with you is a future that's tainted. A wonder how something can change your life. Maybe this time I can stop my heart's writhes. Life goes on, but do I? Life goes on, but do I? When you only find solace in trivialities but you know you've gotta sail better seas, They'll say pick your head up and try it again But they think they're gonna try and fool me? Please! My heart is in flames, and it never ceases When I remember, I love you to pieces. A future with you is the future that I painted, But a futu

As I stand in front of the glass wall The path I seek can't be seen at all Truth tell, if it isn't pride or money, Hind sight is still 20-20. Without the strength of my body at its pique, Muscles  will tear, the bones'll get weak, I didn't give up because my chances weren't bleak But it never meant that I'd find what I seek. So I stand in front of the glass wall But what I seek isn't a path at all, "This ending is exactly what I planned." I think to myself, as it crumbles in my hands.

When the leaves begin to grow, And life begins to show, The rain begins to fall, Spring shows itself to all. Summer comes, happy all the while, As you find what makes hearts smile. Warm and sunny ever a time, Before you learn that love is blind. Slowly, though, the death of all, As you feel the Autumn's call. Everything becomes brown and gray So, too, your heart became this way. All the white postpones decay, Heart of Earth beckons warm day. Never answers, if asked when The light will bring Winter's end. I live here, I call it Midway. It never seems to go away. Maybe forever will live my pen, If I never see Spring again.

Open your eyes and open your minds, There're so many types and so many kinds, It may taste like berries, or smell like orange rinds, But believe me, you, it'll kick your behinds. It's green or it's orange or purple sometimes Real inspiration if you need to write rhymes, Calms people down, prevents lots of crime, but remember moderation, not all the time.

Through the day and the night, the work and the play, There is always that time, when all the time's gone away. Relax and take a load off as you recollect your day. Throw your goosebumps aloft, but the cause must stay. - For in the end, everything changes. Even your thoughts, as the brain rearranges. Maybe the places and faces, but you won't remember when. Perhaps, my friend, you will know maturity by then.

The usual cuts, nothing special, Covering a slab of rusted metal. Dark, yet bright white honest lies. Melding colour, faded ink, wasted tears. Brows immature, but the tongue is wise. To me, Never answers, but no one hears. I reach in, for you, and to no avail. In words I could never tell this tale... Finally my words erupt, but there is no sound. Your time is up. Pencils down.

Sometimes I wonder if, like...if you didn't exist, would that huge glowing ball of compressed flammables just fall out of the sky? Nothing makes any sense without you. It's like taking mass out of the equation e=m(cxc). It just doesn't work. So imagine you're in Kansas, and all of the sudden, up is down, left is right, and fucked is unfucked, so what happens then? What even matters then? But then, I just remember, nothing fucking mattered in the first place. It's Kansas.

The vast blue...ironic. Sky-trodden white lies... Helpless as it all dies... The vast blue...ironic. The silent greens...ironic. Human nature's guise... Or just...a failure's eyes... The silent greens...ironic. The heartless gray...ironic. I listen, you don't say. I get it now. Go away. The heartless gray...ironic.

How can I Stand to hate you so, Perfection?