Looking behind me, I see the long journey home; have I really traveled this far? Have I not noticed where I have gone? I traveled through heat and snow; made my home where men refuse to go However, I pulled my anchor up and I decided to depart; countless times did my ship continue to sail, countless times did i go through hell. As an old man looking back at my fruitless journey, I cannot help but pondered it all be for drudgery. That or it all be for you' asking myself did this captain not travel just to follow your path. Did he never hold anchor because your stay did not last? He stands on the island his ship did crash; looks behind him and admires the orange dawn. His face wrinkled from age, and salt from sea breeze. The captain with his scruffy face leg's out a sigh - "My journey was pointless but now I understand that's life." Kicking the sun bathed white sand, with his sun burnt feet; the captain continues to speak, "but looking back, I would not want another life." The captain laid forsaken in his hollow grave, not a friend or a lover came that day.
To the father's of father's; has nothing yet changed? When sons become men and parents have aged. To the daughter's of daughter's; has nothing yet changed? When girls become women and parents have aged. Stuck in cycles, abandoned in social class. The structure is unbreakable; the ceiling made of glass.
Omnipresent is the Gemini's burden but what remains untold - the winter born human Sewn into the tapestry and directed by forces unknown, digested from organisms; the product of crashing randomness Throughout knots and weaves developed conscious realities Tied down by threads and unable to reform; each human, decided at the bang, was given a life; one that they must retain, regardless of suffocating pain. Alas, when insignificance crashes into earth; the human must find glitter for whatever it's worth. Rest assure this does not mean a child of infinite possibility would not fight - before the abysmal darkness is brought by night. No; it is a gift, a reward, a promise, the human's abstract from bland colors and shapes they are able to form a message. Do not relay on artist solely to express the pain and sorrow; or delight and satisfaction; our breathing desire. As the air remains in their lungs and yours; let thoughts dance around your head and linger near your heart. They will draw you in; take it as a gift or burden; It was sewn in at the beginning; unchangeable it shall consist. /i came from far away; just to see you/