I failed to keep in touch with your worlds.
I've been chasing my paradise lost.
How well are you in touch with your worlds?
Do you still look at the moon?
Or are you busy at nights fixing up the broken pieces of that beautiful flowervase that you threw at your father?
Does the scent of night bring you memories of your beloved?
Does the morning breeze smell of perished pasts?
Do you regret your pasts?
Is it a fantasy? Your reality.
How do you grasp your reality? Your fantasy.
Is it a dream for you ? This life.
Does your god look like you?
Do you bleed blues?
Is it dark inside you? Does it hurt?
Do they dim their lights for you?
Can you see the roads ahead? The pits ahead.
Does the world make it easy for you?
Or do they make you cry?
Or do you sing instead ? Like you used to
Do you sing when you're scared and alone in the dark?
Is it all a dream for you? This life.
When you wake up, will you remember me?
Do you know me? Do you Know you?
Do you remember your heart?
Your heart
Is your Art
Do you try not to sell your heart?
Is it hard?
Have you lost the parts? Your Art
Which blooms flowers in the yards of the powerless.
Or have the world made you powerless?
Have you lost the parts?
Of your heart.
Patch it up.
Your heart
Is your Art.
Try not to sell your heart.
Though I'm still fixing up that flowervase,
It's all a dream for me. This life.
My reality, a fantasy.
When I wake up,
When we're together yet alone
Still afraid of the dark
Will you sing me that song?
And can we not sell our hearts?
Instead Forget the pasts
And share our worlds?

© Amal Backer