Nights of terror, nights of pleasure
A combination of the two as a sparkle approaches the dark
A nice combination, honest days, innocent days,
Chilli sun of the days, honey sun of the days,
A nice combination as added sugar and salt in coffee
Sighing! As deep as a sleepy chimney cleaner,
So I can tell the story of my bitter and honey journey,
As I was treading over the rough tar lane,
Nor only rough, sometimes smooth as a book,
A mixture of the two, I met persons of spiritual bones
And persons of flesh, a combination of the two
On the lane of sweets and lemmons of green clothes,
I saw a lot of horror, a lot of zombies, a lot of angels
One day I flew my shadow, not realizing there was
nobody else but me, simultaneously I flew my footsteps
not realizing they were mine, my heart feeling like
there was a zombie stroking my left shoulder,
When the stars trying to give me a hopeful chat,
And scared was I, focus I had lost, a way I could
not see. I ran a thou miles, just to realize
mine journey was a pellucid ten thou miles,
During the day I was stepping up the stairs,
Climbing up rocks, toward the topless hill,
I was walking and running, along the lane
The endless lane, books I wrote on the lane
Degree I completed, but the journey
was still ongoing, it’s an endless journey
Restless nights I have spent on my books,
Endless lane, and topless hill I’ve strived to feel
their heads, I really have tried,
And I have long ago been tired,
Tired of imagining groping zombies,
Tired of everything, but quitting was my foe.