::06:17:08::

::: A Simple Matter of Sorts :::

No matter the roughness of the night; one of those...
nights that leave one empty inside out
Your cries are heard anguishing all truth
Cries of joy and sorrow;
... well, you do make them sound
almost the same
Yet, again...
You have mingled everything together inseparably!
Your aim is simple
and you don t ask for much
You prefer to dream away (of) a world of desolation and splendor
While the rest of us is forced to twist under the rain drops
To endure pain
To face the road
To paint the fence
Bright and early in the morning

Written by: ~ Odeta Xheka