Pick a pen,
Pick a lane,
But they can’t swim now,
They can’t swim now,
Pick someone to pick a grain,
Under the sea now,
Over the seal that.
Sky lines above airplane streets,
Lines of sight are lined and cut,
And if it’s a matter of eyebrows,
Why only there?
Chicken little was there so and so,
And the sky fell..
Is the sky falling here too?
I keep telling myself,
Each night after i turned twenty one:
Who dreams this dream?
Who cut the sky?
Who is falling before?
In the plain of nights,
What is landing above?
The aliens that are us,
Away from real reality?
Or the humans that is not?
Searching and will never ant to anything,
Rides will roll on,
All is learned is learned,
All done is done,
All gone is done,
Still life,
Still there’s a life,
That was always half a life,
Almost annihilated,
That picks itself up,
Walks, for the first, second, seventh time.
Summer moons,
Were awake,
You wake up upon a beautiful dream,
Of orange juices,
You stand in line waiting,
For a red sign,
To red hands under suns,
Table tennis tables, sons,
The only thing not passing is such a wind.
And you rush belonging to the streets,
You can dream, falling,
Slipping banana falls,
Like other sleeping fishes,
They expected the moon to be a sun,
They expected the moon to be a sun.
A soul should return as it should,
Alone, simple, tearing,
Sitting still,
Maybe then it will see all street lines cut,
All sky lines devided into one,
Without evil there’s no path,
Without pain we’ll never learn,
Without love we’ll never resist,
Beauty will save the world,
Both the saver and the need,
Both the needer and the save.
All is done is, as it should do,
What are we all but words wavering through winds of fate?
Hopefully we’ll be good words,
Hope we’ll return as good hearts in the end,
Hope the tunnel is near now,
And the sky is falling upon us,
To hug us this time,
All we got is hoping to,
And hope is nothing but a hug.
zaki monzer 