Behind glass and wood that looks through brightness
Always prolong and sitting boxed in that looms in shadow
out there witnesses the dreams that want to be
Out there to see life going on
Hides from weakness and illnesses to be seen from the eyes and not and being inflicted
It echoes and ripples through out with no moment in between
Wondering if there's any scenario to achieve
Only to hear more echoes
Never hearing any calls or see any calls
Sitting and hoping for something
While specks come.
Specks stay.
Specks go.
One, It is getting close.
The echo still looms
The grip lingers but it has weakened
There are wishes it would've ended many moons ago.
There are wishes that the song to be heard
Never had it received to hear the song
The shadow has a grip that has depleted over the suns
A grip that paralyzes and drains
It is only ignore to fill spite and ignorance in return
Spreading only the unnecessary while that which stands on the border
It's actions strikes many times.
In return the window slowly cracks but it slowly opens for an escape.
The rays piercing through is what keeps the life
Always singing into the drums to keep running.
Getting there
Still Getting there
Will get there
Despite the echoes
That comes and goes.
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