A Poem To You

ǝʌolʌǝ

Winds die like sunny waves,

Die quietly like a warm mast,

Big, cold gulls swiftly desire a dead, sunny lad,

Why does the seashell desire to sail?

Never desire a shore.

Work is a fast pace,

Cars walk like grimy lights,

People are a sad scene,

Life is a cold rain,

All rains desire small, noisy jobs,

Never desire a city.

Summer burns on, and my insanity grows,

Afraid of the days to come ,

And space inside began to glow,

Brighter than ever before,

Burning the eyes of my shadows.

On the outside,

It looks as if I am ridden of humanity,

But take a look on the inside,

And you may just find,

That I,

The monster,

Have evolved into something greater.