My eyes stare into the horizon, quick to understand what life is not.
The sound of my frail heart, beating, to assure me of a life being lived,
Against the rushing winds, going nowhere fast!
I have my journey to live out, every step to step on.
No one wants to be ripples in a dying out pond, especially my heart.
It wants to live, a fulfilling life full of smiles and laugher.
A life full of purpose, and bittersweet execution of ideas well thought of.
Those shivering moments, of standing against the wind, is what life is about.
Those shivering moments, of gathering enough thresholds, is what life is about.
I want to take off, even when I stand in these gashing winds.
Get enough thresholds to get to the ever-ending skies.
My direction will be dealt with, once in the skies.
That yearns, to be oblivious of anything around you.
A need to soar the limitless skies, unbound by hate or love!
Nothing but the sound of my frail heart pushing me to go higher, faster!
I’m not sick, but sickness is my disease.
Sickness of always flying better, remembering to forget I was but a helpless child.
Knowing nothing but living life, now it’s just a matter of the moments that take my breath.
For the long days, and nights, I wait silently as the winds blow.
Silently watching the horizon, listening closely to the cries of my heart,
In another life, I would have been in the air force, or a pilot,
But this is it, this is my life, I will be just me.
Not letting my life be what it would be, but!
Let me take a role, together with the universe far in the horizon, to shape what is mine.
Tempting fate to play my cards right, because my frail heart knows there are no right cards.
For now, I just have a frail heart, beating, assuring me of a life that will be well lived.