little bouts of inspiration come and go
strange how I feel like I'm lost in them
odd to see that I feel them because I've lost myself
ill minds in worst creations
what can I expect to be the result?
wanting to live as I did, so I grasp for life and my past
but they will never come,
so I sit here in my tomb of blue watching dead roses fall
as much as I want to, I won't let go
because of the memories that I once lived
and hope to live again