if we take away our temper 
would it have made things better 
if we take away our feelings 
would it have help us in sleeping 

you, who made hatred a thing so passe 
the thank yous stream down from the edge of the eyes 
and there is no cure for this loneliness 
how strong can i really be as i crumble right in front of you 

and the scent around, smells of tears boiling
the feelings of the past lingers still 
the night is long, so dream on and on 
i'll be here with the night 

Like the ashes that falls from the stick from the hand
Into the merciless and lonely room
in between those fingers
some things linger

Seated alone on the couch
Repeating those thoughts
amidst the smoke that floats
and those trails of thoughts run wild

As i laid the lit stick back down
afraid to wake up the past
whats left of the smoke
some things still linger

Unable to understand
maybe i could laugh it off
Whats I was afraid of was not lighting up again
but rather this pen on my hand once more