Confronting the lost sight with time, it's always necessary to set back a rhyme. There isn't any hankering which would drag the life back but there's a vacant seat which defies the show yet is never failed to be utilised. Time runs with the lift and its passengers with the staircase. Maybe this is how we fail to confront time.
Making patterns and choosing 'existence' from the night sky makes me feel lively in the narrow width of time. But the hangs which carried the waste of 'flight', never knows what time is! I get stuck within the 'plight' and memories abvolate, by leaving the curse which was build around
my tackled corners.
I was locked inside a cage with known-unknown household items. You know who I was, but you never raised a voice for me. I spoke about my lost time and they ignored. I was bawling at the top of my voice to catch the wind, but you pretended as the forever lost key of my cage. And now when I'm free with my own flight I'll make an effort to climb the stairs and it's your time to raise the bar for my dreams~ which I'll seize it soon. And it's time to raise the bar against your falsity.
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