his hands, the touch of gold.
my eyes speak of sorrow.
my hands, the touch of tomorrow.
we move around, feeling the hate,
seeing fate, don't try to change it.
i know what you are up to,
so hush, stop and go.
the existence of nothingness,
speaks to you the art of something.
it is not meant to be empty,
now start, we are free.
i may not complete you,
just trouble, i deceive you.
ask me just one more time,
then we can start all over again.
Kiss this wonderland goodbye.
Iva Munira.
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