Stop stealing the Sun, we are the criminals tearing out the faces in old photos
our steps mimic heart-beats chiming in the snow,
our minds shield the world from that indigo morning,
our chests are linked by the elongated chain locked deep inside,
Stop whispering lies, we are the creators of our own dismal paintings,
our movements shadow subconscious feelings of doubt,
our activities dispose of all that jumbled jargon littering the floor,
our hopes sync with the last goodbye carved into our soul,
Stop pretending to be, we are the fools who won’t say the most crucial first word,
so our true souls will stay parallel,
never being able to finally be.