Like a wisp you come,
Haunting my desire,
But the bridges in between
Has been burned into the stream
We only have our passion from within
We try to keep our silence
As ghosts who pretend to exist
Wondering how long must be linger
In close distance to each other
Must you always remain untangible
While I always remain as your dream
If only we can rebuild
The bridges burned in between
It’s my first time to loose my voice. Never will I think that a day of occassional coughing would lead to this.
To communicate without words was hard for me. I can’t get my thoughts that quickly. That most heartbreaking thing is that I couldn’t convey my jokes easily (so I only have myself laughing at my own weird thoughts).
In order to say something, I have to use a white board and a pen. It’s very convenient, except my hands are loaded and it takes more time (as if this is the grandfather of the modern tablet :P).
Despite of this, I had fun expressing. My facial expression and gestures say it all. Instead of laughing, I would clap loudly or dance or roll myself in the office room (well, not really that wildly). Stress? I don’t have to make myself stressed. Only when I had to read two of my news. *ehem ehem* (I sounded like a pipsqueak! O.o)
But what matters most is the people around you. How they understand you. I guess it really takes patience and love to get the message through.
Need I say more? I guess not. I guess I just need rest to regain my voice. Or better yet, rest my fingers from talking on cyberspace too much. Let the normal be back to normal. 🙂
Let me be silent, let me be still
For the sake of sanity I will not spill
Leave me alone in my deepest of thoughts,
Our world will retain its peaceful wrought
I have no time to listen to your senselessness
The very words that unconsciously destroy your soul
You deride my being as if you’re a sage
Which actually is a proof of your nothingness at all
How dare you discuss without checking facts
Blabbering like a dying fish on a haystack
Contention is not the solution to your analysis
Neither can your words reach the end of a paralysis
The likes of you is condemnable
I will not site from you anything commendable
Yet, I find myself as damnable
Been given the mercy though I’m worth of it at all
Blood stained hands on a dirty old wood
Reached the heart of a stubborn, dead mold
Whose heart the once thought it can live by its own
Not knowing that the Blood can give it a soul
I wonder if this Blood can silence your tongue
But for the sake of love, must I dare ask?
If only by this Blood this heart of mine had life
Would then this Blood make you speak love?