One day, my dear
I'll respond to your fears
But till that day,
Let me rest.
Don't wake me,
'tis a forbidden fest
and a shower of quaint notions
(almost tranquil, or so it seems?)
as I'm drained out of emotion.
I found a smile come on my face
forcing its shape as my cheek tickle forces me
to pave way, for what you might see
(and find) hint of something special.
And that weird color in my eyes,
that I didn't know existed but brown...
How do you light it?
Is it a new spell, only you can cast?
Sure, the rhyming scale isn't rhythmic
But isn't poetic language of the lunatic?
Ay, the demand of the scale stretches
beyond the reach of my limited vocabulary.
In regular terms, in your eyes I see truth.
And in your arms, I will find salvation.