Off with the switch, I pull the plug,
called discussions are long debates,
zoom and repeat the dead statues,
I avoid anything that indicates hate.
Deaf opinions demanding the same,
hate, blood, war and assaults taped,
heinous crimes of this horrid world,
brothers are barred and sisters raped.
Big battles for the slightest change,
kings or kins, it's a constant fight,
times, when it's hard for defending,
this vigilante's vigil dims its light.
Tired and craving a moment of breath,
everyone's story, here's another one,
a way to cope and hope my dreams,
I'm bad at sports, but I always run.
Running through the rain bare feet,
running through the fields and woods,
running from questions that get too real,
running from reality as long as I could.
Palms in the chilly valley stream,
boots jumping on the rocks of the bank,
misty mornings with snow mountains,
moonlight walks! top dream to be frank.
Feet up on a swing that flies so high,
rolling on the grass under the tree's shade,
blue sky, cotton clouds and fireflies,
painting views that could never fade.
Windows changing from fall to winter,
humming on a swinging chair near fire,
holding a cup in a warm wool's hug,
dreaming new worlds, endless desires.
A wistful pull to a wondrous world,
back home, fighting alone in the play,
perpetual pain pulling me back,
I tend to run circles in a toxic way.
So I sleep between the lines of a book,
curling up under the blanket of tunes,
wording under the light of a torch,
to a peaceful escape in the built cocoon.