It’s like crawling slowly and steadily on my skin, my cold skill refuses that baked slice
of lemon to provide composure, oh, the moon, show me your silver beam in this sunny gold pyramid.
It’s something like a blatant truth now suffocating my inside organs.
Clenching my unsaid words, devouring my amorphous fidelity
And, all my fingers crave is to play the music of your heart.
©My Valiant Soul