#3 Healed
Calloused scars thickened my skin.
And now, every word in my stories, songs, and poetries
Became less poignant.
I have lost the old ballad...
I lost it all along.
Cause now I'm healed.
And each time I write,
I try my best to reconnect with pain.
To recreate something.
But all that is left is the scar
And there is no more pain.
I have but vague memories
Of feelings I can no longer remember.
Of 3 am's wasted with the wrong ideas.
Now they are beautiful and inspired.
And I trace every lines of these scars they have left.
And all I can see is a drawing
Of stars and sunsets.
Cause when heaven left the universe
There I am taking the last boat.
Off the shore.
With the warm embers
Of the afterglow.