:.:>.<:.:

An eye is a window.

A heart is a door.

A hand is a tool.

But the mind is a fool.

The songs in my heart keep me alive.

Unfinished, incomplete, mean so much to me.

How can my mind fathom feelings unkown?

When life gives unequal passion that drones.

I pry, and I beg fruitlessly,

to sing the emotion embedded in me.

But why do I try, for glory, for passion, for me?

I do not sing for me,

I do not sing for you,

I sing for fear of losing song.

The songs in my heart that keep me alive.

They are my belief, they are my creed,

I act upon them silently.

I dream them whole, I see the score,

I wish to trap their voice's lore.

The songs in my heart keep me alive.

With worlds that change, by waking eyes,

I always lose your giving prize.

So take not flight from mind's nest,

leave me not, my dearest fear.

Your melodious harmonies are best,

where you reside and I can hear.

But what is song?

What is real?

Is it wrong?

I cannot feel.

The songs in my heart that keep me alive.

For without song, I am not me.

Without tune, I cannot be.

Without beat, I cannot step.

So write me now, before I flee.

The songs in my heart that keep me alive.