I’m holding onto my sanity like a flying trapeze
sometimes I lose grip with reality, shy, I’m trying to grieve
Living feels so suffocating, it’s like I’m dying to breathe
I can’t tell a dream from a nightmare, but feel more alive while I sleep
drifting to the soothing sounds of a hooting owl, that’s inside of a tree
my window stays cracked open, because inside I feel outside of what’s free
these moments…I close my eyes and vibe with the breeze
though, lonely it seems, when I spend the bulk of those nights on my knees
the thunder is calling, lightning igniting the skies
the air, thick with moisture, serenated by the whistling wind chimes
a nocturnal ambiance, likened to the lightest dark
a universal mood set, morbid-like romanticism, the theme of my dying heart
…I pray my shadow never leaves me, my instinct never wilts
my 6th sense never haunts me, my self-esteem never spills
my heart never tricked, my conscience never lies
my voice never hoarse, my eyes never cry
my knees never quake, my shoulders never fold
my temper never simmers, my skin never cold
my sons forever love, their minds never tainted
they see life as art, and thrive within their parts in the painting (goodbye)