Activated Passive Realizations

False hopes, smile sorries, no sorry figures,

you raise the toast and the journey begins,

cradling your way down to the time,

we re-arrange what we had made over.

Slimmed erosions of the happy hours,

you ride with YOU lonely in those cold showers,

clueless, as to what may be next possibilities,

before that could happen, you refill the dying potion.

Humming alone down the streets, blowing the smokes,

trying to get rid of the haunting ghosts,

nothing left to gift to, or to give up,

all that has been, or will be is the you, and you will shut up.

Ashes, smokes, rings of fires, stir in you a desire,

that was it meant to be, time to light another FIRE.