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desolate wonderland

Treetops that we use to climb are now, skyscrapers without ledges to climb.
Never finding that promised never-land.
An slow descendent of youth unfolds.

Staring blankly at a spinning clock wheel.
Falling more and more into dis-array.

Land half filled with waste debris,
Here, in this so called town, it’s all really empty.
Wedging in nails one by one.
A steady boat for voyage was built.
Constricted by our 24/7, shall we throw it off the plank.

An outrider escort,
And
Machine cog bird.
Proping out wing of sticks.
To leave the bounds of this place.
In a downpour of katabatic winds,
Be free gliding the wind,
Taking to the outbounds.

In our get getaway ride.
Throw out the seed to be done with this lifestyle.
Ivy veins will grow, rolling it all back.
Even if we were to go back to beginning,
I would still make the same mistakes.
Without tailing pain, surely is a life of lies.

In the árida, waiting for rainfall,
Looking up at the night gems beaded above.
Follow by heatwave, rushing back, taking it away.
Here candle stick plants grow.

An outrider escort,
And
Machine cog bird.
Proping out wing of sticks.
To leave the bound of this place.
In a downpour of katabatic winds,
Be free gliding the wind,
Taking to the outbounds.

In our get getaway ride.
Throw out the seed to be done with this lifestyle.
Ivy veins will grow, rolling it all back.
Even if we were to go back to beginning,
I would still make the same mistakes.
Without tailing pain, surely is a life of lies.