You try to cherish every beat of the heart, Every breath of the lungs, When you're ecstatic No sense bothers your mind, No cold stones to grind, Everything is charismatic You ride oceans and seas, Automatic, Thus, you're symptomatic No drug leaves you unhealed, No wound left to bleed, This so, like, melodramatic! As the phase recedes, So will the faith with fate, We shall stand-up and relieve the pain
A collection of my writings