Reflection #11
I wanted to let you go, countless of times. I thought, that I've already swam back to the shore, escaped from the tears and sorrows, and have the sun shining high up above me, where I could wait for you in safety, and I could walk away easily if you never returned for me.
But I didn't know till now that was and still struggling to keep myself afloat in the waves, far away from the shore, surrounded by the deep blue sea. I'm frozen stiff, and something inside probably will break any time, not according to my will anymore, but without any rhyme or reason. If only sorrow could be something that I could discard anytime I like, then probably this world wouldn't have so many people suffering.
I've fell too deep, can't be seen, out of reach. Even if you'd hear me crying out loud for help, I'm someone you wouldn't save, or so I think. My string of life's burning to its core and it's irreversible. The process is so tormenting, so unbearable, that makes death seems to be the best solution. And now all I have is the darkness, awaiting to conceal my identity. The worlds we live in, the way we live, it’s all too different. Sorrow takes over as an evil dictator, and I have no more control over my own feelings.
Perhaps life is supposed to be like this, and it's to test my strength. The obstacles have lined up continuously in front of me; the obstacles that I would never thought to have encounter. Years before, I managed to laugh off after I've overcome the obstacles, pretending to be happy, even when the world's dark inside. But everything had come together now, and it's starting to prove how weak I'm inside to the outside world. Every laughter I have is used as a shroud over my tears, and monotonous answers are all I can give.
The world's a pandemonium of love and hate. If we can just repeat it over and over, I want to throw away my name and meet you all over again. You got me twisted in so deep. Three years, and I still haven't found anything that could erase the memories I've had with you.
The punishment for crime of loving is not to be loved.
But I didn't know till now that was and still struggling to keep myself afloat in the waves, far away from the shore, surrounded by the deep blue sea. I'm frozen stiff, and something inside probably will break any time, not according to my will anymore, but without any rhyme or reason. If only sorrow could be something that I could discard anytime I like, then probably this world wouldn't have so many people suffering.
I've fell too deep, can't be seen, out of reach. Even if you'd hear me crying out loud for help, I'm someone you wouldn't save, or so I think. My string of life's burning to its core and it's irreversible. The process is so tormenting, so unbearable, that makes death seems to be the best solution. And now all I have is the darkness, awaiting to conceal my identity. The worlds we live in, the way we live, it’s all too different. Sorrow takes over as an evil dictator, and I have no more control over my own feelings.
Perhaps life is supposed to be like this, and it's to test my strength. The obstacles have lined up continuously in front of me; the obstacles that I would never thought to have encounter. Years before, I managed to laugh off after I've overcome the obstacles, pretending to be happy, even when the world's dark inside. But everything had come together now, and it's starting to prove how weak I'm inside to the outside world. Every laughter I have is used as a shroud over my tears, and monotonous answers are all I can give.
The world's a pandemonium of love and hate. If we can just repeat it over and over, I want to throw away my name and meet you all over again. You got me twisted in so deep. Three years, and I still haven't found anything that could erase the memories I've had with you.
The punishment for crime of loving is not to be loved.
Labels: Reflection