Leap a phrase, like fickle youth.
Breath a phase, like bitter truth.
Listen to what the wind says
While it gushes down your veins
and knocks off your shores,
Until your vocals scream names
that echoes back to you.
Often you sound like the wind
struck in your throat
yet the songs are red enough
to bear a wrecked melody.
Listen to what the storm compels,
in dizzy nights and frivolous noons
when the sun drowns into oblivion
and ruins starve in bits and parts.
For all you feel is a raging fire
flowing in you yet laughing at you
As you stand before a mirror
and your clothes shiver in terror.
Amusing, a murder feels to you
Yet your fingers tremble to accept.
You're a villain of your own story
That's how you lose a life, worth living.