Fly, me to, the moon, and let me…
I mean, it is already laid out there. But seriously aside from next questions and so on that I can think of, I merely think deeply about the hatred in which burden my soul of researching here and so on. Suffocating of a country by itself. Of the ‘pathetic’ (emphasize for dramatic effect) normal life without merits, and of those people who do nothing more than they perceived of which they can do. Such a burden.
That said, I need to step up. Cannot delay this any longer. Rather do it now than never. I have decided to follow it through. And thus to not be here anymore.
Let the dreamer be dreaming,
of life once different than most.
Let those of ordinary think of the unthinkable,
for them to think is to live.
Let us rise and fly away in the wind,
for it to fall down harder than most.
Of which not to fly due of descent,
a grace on its own, all things to end.
Fly. Heeds those words of the old bare no mind of such past,
Let us be old, for life to live be apart,
fly me to the moon, there shall me in part.
To myself give a mark, in this barren world.
In the end of the day, let me recite this poem of mine. Might it be of no comfort to you, yet it is to push you above all things else.
That said. Good day. And the cover art is this one.