If I make friends with the shrouded paths at an early age.
May satin be my garment and roses make pillows for my head.
May the dawn’s sunlight glitter on the river.
As the acoustics whisper their farewell via a song of love.
I turn for one last look at the mirror and realize I never saw the right reflection.
It’s the things you don’t win that wrap your mind the most.
And no manner of antidotes will get me by.
Expired drugs can get you high or Higher.
There is no universe in which I win.
There is no galaxy in which I shine.
Darkness has covered me like a new commandment.
And that is why it breaks me.