[Source] [https://pin.it/1MdSYeG]
My pen is running out of ink,
And like ether my inspiration gradually burn down.
I could see the flame fading and the smoke, merging with the cloud.
This shouldn't have been the end, I've only just started.
What about the dreams about becoming great? or I'm just a slumber?
I used to be the one with a thousand voice,
But I'm left alone in the silence.
I used to be the guy the holy ghost,
But I'm surrounded by only ghosts.
I used to ride on inspiration, raving the emotions of man kind,
But now I'm lost in my castle of emotion.
Maybe I've settled for something I didn't deserve,
Or I've battled my inspiration and gained victory over my dream to become a slumber.
All I wanted is a celebrated life and peace of mind..
But this destiny keeps calling me, it comes with great task but I'm working my ways out of it.
Again, like a needle tip, it keeps the pain steady,
Titanic legacy..
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