Can it be real if I remain here beneath the darkening embrace of a midnight sky, will the memories be erased and forever set in some fictitious disgrace for sinners to embrace
Can it be real if I continue to deny, no matter how much time goes by, the sentiments that remain, set to penetrate and drain, whilst in vain I plot and conceal the ways to vanquish what I truly feel
Can it be real if distractions conquer with missions profound that nothing and nobody could prevent their victorious endgame
Can it be real if you are no longer there to set a path where I cast everything else to fade into darkness unaware without care, because never will you be the one to despair or ponder over actions without a single care
Can it be real if I somehow manage to forget to the point I wonder how and why you caused such a fret of fascination and frustration
In an Elysium of mine resides you the architect eternal and divine, because with you happiness exists, and for this bizarre reason I fail to dismiss these sentiments I hold no matter what has been fortold. But pray and be bold for this story is growing old, because you can never be what I seek and dream for my reality.
Can it be real if I continue to conceal till the point I no longer feel, pretend it was all a ridiculous dream, and finally be at an end this for life’s eternity.