having a hand to hold.
a up pace tempo awakens my intentions, i'm soon there to be at your side.
your line of scattered specks splits me into two. the lift when we are present takes me into the winds ease, everything is just simple.
a ongoing siren that attracts my eye can never be hidden.
the cushion you supply me has me in a undeniable consistency, and when i think of the connection that as evolved in us it has me feeling lucky.
but when i see the exhaust, and the strain in you it knocks me into a cage where all of my impurities lie, and it brings me into that cycle of the bashing words fucked over, hurt.... and broke.
i dont know how i bared the cord that i extended latching onto you and still having taken a hold it as every single blade has persistently frayed the line.
when i see a candle sway as the air moves through it, i get lost in the power it holds, the heat of the flame blinds me as i am guided to my ideal... the questions i ask all sprout from my wants.
the never ending imagination i have will never be held back,
a try to bring you into that image will never be stopped,
as you may attempt to go astray,
i cant let that be okay.
so bare with this hand,
as i bring you to the sand...
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