Facets

 

Facets

-Miss A


Here you are... a millimeter away from my palm

Hey moon, are you made of glass?

As peaceful as ever, maybe you’re bored but you’re calm

Doesn’t the void ring you a nice alarm?

You just dance in your axis, without any harm

Ever so shining in the galaxy of dark, in your all that class.

Can’t you hide the scar on your beautiful heart?

The crack just holds a pity for me to look at

“Broken yet beautiful”

Did you converse that stance?

 

I don’t know when I last looked at you

But you’ve been here always, haven’t you?

Sometimes glowing happy with all the big round face

Sometimes just being there in the crust, without a trace

First of the 12 months just passed by looking at you

Another 8 walking there, underneath the light of you

It still takes a month, for it to be a year

And would take 21 more for another one

And I keep asking myself...

Are you listening? Or is it in my head.

 

I still keep a note of my promises I draped

Each one those promises I signed and saved

What is the biggest dream you ever had?

Wasn’t it was to have a bigger dream always...

Under what circumstances you bow?

And what kind of expression did your face bestow...

The phases that you pledged being filtered with the facets

Of what you flamed and how you felt it through

For every note every time has an edit

That little scumbag pronounced emotion merging the credit

 

The glass has a valid delicate coating

So soft, so shiny, it has a job of reflecting

And every time I look though to face you

In the end you realize, you were looking at you

In a kindred mirror, which is beautiful and all

But the patience makes you say it all

The words that remain stuck at the neck

Like the albatross that flies by your deck

The problem stays the same as it was

Wait the question is... what was the problem again?

Is it the promise or is it the reflection?

Or is it that hue that portrays the distraction?

 

How many facets of you exist?

How many of them have your seen?

The faces, the void of your expressions

Classic ones, away from diffractions

How many of the filters were real

The turmoil of sprouting seeds behind the deal

The surfaces like a mask

Which one did you let ‘em through, I ask.

It’s such a pain, when you are confused of the fakes

For the shadow of yourself seem different in the lakes

Than the blue skies with bright sun that it is

Or the ones in waterfall sheets of gleaming iris

 

Which shade did you abandon?

Which door you’d let the ships through?

And what part of it remains unused

What proportion of your heart you knew

Hey moon, back in the year that we looked

How many facets were there that we drew?

Fascinating pottery of mud and invisible void

Count ‘em for me, ‘cause now I’m a bit confused

Stuck at this war of conflict

Mimicking cracked lines of the irreplaceable dialect.

 

 

 

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