TheDeceased
Ex-Bluelighter
A winter junkies’ seasonal infection
Tracks under sleeves after falling leaves
That vacant focus, impossible to pinpoint and harder to prove
Whether it blooms or withers; that is the question
Is down up and up down? Is it depraved or is it profound
To hibernate; to wait until the calendar dictates
We bloom or wither, crawl or slither… we change
A winter junkie’s life half-lived
While others take and others give
Balance is neither here nor there (for the drug-addict equivalent of a polar bear)
Whether it’s better or worse
To eek out an existence down here, on earth
Or fly back and forth between love and fear
At the very least
We bloom then wither,
We crawl then slither
We change
..................
Aren’t sine and cosine
Better than a line that never dares curve?
Tracks under sleeves after falling leaves
That vacant focus, impossible to pinpoint and harder to prove
Whether it blooms or withers; that is the question
Is down up and up down? Is it depraved or is it profound
To hibernate; to wait until the calendar dictates
We bloom or wither, crawl or slither… we change
A winter junkie’s life half-lived
While others take and others give
Balance is neither here nor there (for the drug-addict equivalent of a polar bear)
Whether it’s better or worse
To eek out an existence down here, on earth
Or fly back and forth between love and fear
At the very least
We bloom then wither,
We crawl then slither
We change
..................
Aren’t sine and cosine
Better than a line that never dares curve?
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