Anything but ordinary

I flip through the album
and the faces turn dry
I picture the pages
and the memory urges me to fly

Through the sands of time
I sink in my fingers
to the the moments,
they make me seek
I witness my journey
to this crossroad,
all in a matter
of insipid few unworldly ways

Those moments
let me seek
and those verses make me speak

The thought of a season
and the years run by

The thought of a fear
and tears numb my eyes

The fraction of life
within the sleep
and figments of dreams
in the heart of pity

No estranged relations,
no past tweak,
just a historian in sin city
searching for something for keeps

The very thought
I kept in deep
and the emotions
that make me sleep
together, hold
my abstract thoughts high

The slightest resemblance
to the passing figure
and my entity begins to wry

The slightest mention
of living and my fears
touch the sky

I am thoughtful
and not feigned
and learning to fly ...