Ash like snow is falling from the sky. Try and collect it in the palm of your hand, but its so light that as soon as you think you've gotten a hold of it, it is blown away instantly. Ash isn't as beautiful as snow. No, it will never be as beautiful as snow. Yet, while it falls, they look identical. Sorrow, masked as bliss in the form of a white flake. They resemble each other, but they couldn't be anymore different.
Old scars also open up. Always wondering what is going to happen. I'm scared.
When I couldn't see a future, I was afraid. When the future was clear and it hurt to see, I just close my eyes and lose myself in happier days. It's easy to lose sight of things.
Only option is to believe. Confidence can take a man so far. Believing in things is the only way. After all, you can't run away from yourself.
Going to fix my eyes on that day.
Going to fix my eyes on that day.
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