Miraculously molten are those things that can't be broken,
Those signs that can't be spoken,
foretell an untold fortune;

An unstitched notion, although meant with great devotion,
Miss enchants and entails blight;

Dividing lies of an unfathomable morrow,
entangling smiles,
All wrapped around sorrow;

Tantalizing as you may be, acknowledging lust,
soon you may see,
How futile all this will be,
when grinning rust sets in me;

Debauchery ensues following nihilistic virtues,
Besmirch with a swift motion, pure and unhampered emotion;

Unbridled thoughts of you and I,
thriving my sanity, keeping it high;
High above cities, ascending to the stars,

Wallowing in distant happiness, till fate stumbles by,
Then darts holes in my heart,
flakes of sorrow and beguile;

Plummeting towards earth, as a comet;
on a crashing course,
Flames scorching my eyes as I keep peering down,

Seeing you wander, right there on the ground;
Then I wonder if you ponder,
about the future that we fumble

I close my eyes,
I slightly mutter,
I happily adapt to the indefinite tumble,
And I wait for that sweet liberating rumble.