Why doesn’t anyone ever seem to amaze me?
Because no one ever try’s or seems to understand me…
Why is destiny so crazy and loopy?
And why do dreams only appear when you’re lonely?
Why do we create what we cannot share?
And why do dreams have a beauty that I fear…
Why do I miss that warmth when I kneel down in my sanctuary?
Why is it that when I write these lines I feel under scrutiny?
These are the questions that seem to linger in me…
Why do I find harmony only when I feel a breeze brush right by me?