Let the show begin!

And maybe life will never tell
The why and when of our own indebtedness to order
Though we, at every point, stomp, yell, disagree
To every shred of monotony
That we relish, indulge in and live off.

If one were to ask - why not, what if...,
We give in to our obsession for conformity.
We betray our own need for breaking away.
We lie of course, so we may sleep.
We cry of course, so we may sleep.
But the drama never ends.

Maybe I could really cry

Maybe one day I will know why I cry myself to sleep

Why I’m haunted by images that seem to belong to another lifetime, to another person
Why I keep wanting to feel everything I come in contact with
Why I feel disgust to the most innocent of things
Why I crave to find a scar in the flawless
Why I cant tell the difference between what’s real and in my head
Why pain is comforting and silence a long wait to a storm

Asking the right questions they say is where most secrets lie
And maybe then
When I have an answer waiting to present itself in its true form to the right question,
I could really cry