Everythings a memory,
But nothings what it seems.
My future through my photographs,
My prescence from my dreams.

This time may I lie awake,
And pray upon my knees.
To keep my dreams from throwing
All this conciousness to sea.

Everythings a portrait,
With the pallette cold and damp.
Paintless mixtures: memories,
With ample artist hands.

How well will we make this look?
Dear memories, decline.
You werent as bright as yesterday,
For yesterday was mine.

Never moving onward,
And living on my past.
But never moving forward
So there would never be a path.

Fighting myself constantly,
The battles always win.
Everythings a memory:
Another dream begins.
 
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