I’ll turn a darkness into a light of gold before this night is through
I write my best depressed like this, when I start remembering you.
I’ve learned a lot in my twenty-one years, though I’ve never learned from the past,
A purity may appear certain, but what’s certain never lasts.
Words are born from the air we breathe and that’s all they are when broken down,
There isn’t need to dress them up in diadem or crown.
A chronic case of apathy, my Freudian defence
Content with desolate emptiness, unhindered and immense.
Relinquishment of all control, to the numbness live within
That aggregates a phantom, where a romantic once had been.
I’ll work this darkness into a good thing before the night is through
And I won’t for a while after I’m finished, but this page will remember you.