Seasons Of Love

[Of Summer]

 

It is summer

And I lie withdrawn, 

Know not own-self

Indifferent to the burns on this skin

Dressed in profound red

Drawn in shapes of love...

  

"What is it about you, my love?"

  

Your love is what I am made up of

Or perhaps I exist in its fragments of 

Once upon a time a beautiful story 

Of lesser sunshine and more sunsets

'Cause you always had a thing for the fading lights

Of the nights spent under the open sky

Do you remember how we used to speak to the stars?

Sending our wishes to soaring heights

Convincing ourselves that at least one of these stars would descend to make them come true!

 

Our love was promised, wasn't it?

And all of this captured in a book

That you forgot even existed

And did not read.

And when now I try to read it, I tear the pages,

I try to read it again, the ink washes off

"Just let me read!"

I colour my face with emptiness.

 

But am I really empty?

  

If you look at me with your motherly eyes

You'd find a casket full of scars

-scars hollow;

Squeezed in, seated side to side

'cause the silence burns more in me ...

Paint me in those eyes the first, 

Move your hands across an empty canvas then

I may not,

But let the scatters speak for me,

Lés Misérable - the portrait you shall then title

And bury me against the walls!

  

Song:

This summer hurts,

I am frozen to its heat,

And I want to live,

But these scars they don't believe

So I ask for rain,

I wish to sink into its love

Will you make me yours?

Will you help me heal my soul?

  

[Of rain]

There's anger in the clouds that shatter

And I drown in their fury.

They say the mornings are stolen by sunflowers' wide smile

And the roses blush all night long

But the diary in my cupboard speaks otherwise,

It holds that bloody flower dried off from love 

And how its death reminds me of mine

Lying withered and just existing 

Thinking that owning one's own thorns is still better than being gifted with the same

At least they don't hurt.

 

You see, I'm drowning, and I won't blossom anymore

I am drowning

'Cause I know that death is just a mile away

It is just a mile away

...still a mile away?!!

 

Drowning was easy, you see

But knowing that the rain has stopped

That the anger of the clouds is limited

That the river which had me absorbed is not a river but a surface

That the surface breaks as I breathe

That I swallow more scars from the cracks that it leaves

That I am both empty and full

I'm full of empty!

But not dead.

  

Knowing that somehow I am still breathing, 

Makes me wonder how is it so

And most importantly why!

 

Song:

Have you known where these answers are?

I lose to find their signs in me

Have they drowned in the rain?

Have they drifted with the winds?

Will they scatter now? 

I'll tell my eyes to take a read

Does death await?

Or there's a life that still exists?

 

 

[Of Autumn]

Sometimes to forget about things becomes one's way towards healing

If loving makes the tress in your backyard look greener, 

Un-loving should make it look like the autumn's fall

Un-loving should make you feel how oblivious your love could be

'Cause an unwanted memory needs to die

These leaves needed to dry

And their trees...

Their trees needed to learn to love themselves again.

 

So I open my scars as loud as possible,

I cry. I bleed. 

But I stay strong!

I stay stronger and my wounds begin to scatter. 

You see, 

All that is scattered is mine but I'll have to let it go

'Cause all that is scattered was yours too and you let it go!

But do not call it my vengeance,

Maybe the autumn has really set in and the winds have become stronger

Strong enough that I can now say 

All that is scattered is our death.

 

Song:

The scars are gone

In this cold, a love has died

Yet a lover is born

A love so selfless, can't deny!

So won't you take me home? 

Your love shall paint the night with stars

And now I feel like home

This love would never fall apart

 

I would never fall apart.

 

Like the first day of the November cold,

I feel loved for the first time in a while

As if I have spent years sleeping underneath a blanket 

Blanket full of morbid dreams

Making me weak at my heart

That I almost forgot I can cultivate some love for myself

 

"Look how the mirror smiles at you, my love!"

 

I take a walk under this eerie silence,

I walk with the cold breeze

And as I pull myself close

As I hold myself tighter

I just hope I'd never forget how this self-embrace feels

I hope I don't have to wait for the snow to set in the next time when I fall apart

I hope I remember that I am my own lover and this love...

This love of mine remains.

 

I hope I remember

That being in love is magical and it is I who always plays the magician

"It is I who is the magician!"

 

So let me set the stage, all by myself,

And let there be some magic thereafter.