Distant lands you say, where flew your thoughts to?
I am but in the suns presence why does it not shine on me too?
Drag my body upon sands of hope, I want to be the chosen one
Same one crowned with stale death, the god of the missing someone
Music to your rites, this dance shall swerve feet to lift
When tempos ignite my passion upon silence shall I uplift
Dare to stand in the frame seen by the ghostly eyes
Because tears shall be bought from the mystic ice
So you mourn with glory the same old story
Where two hearts travel but one is in a hurry
You seem far to lurk, my drum sound you want to follow
As earth’s pleases to bind you and also to swallow
Let my songs find ways to write my very notes
So to myself I don’t write the same death note.
© Rudolph Adidi