words of longing
i've barely the strength to continue
feigning to be free till the end of time
for all but i are at the edge of something great
and i am merely on the cusp of any change at all
with this chaos counting for nothing
and the mess i made being put to no use
as mint green palms hold every frail dream
once again, i've accomplished nothing
i want to ride with the pirates
and sing with those i don't know
to ask to be an aesthete
is to ask for far too much
