At The Back.

Father, a voice from the depths
of the abyss has been whispering in my ear;
loudly – in my sleep, when I’m walking
traversing the sun’s whereabouts
and where I’m from,
the voice talks badly of you;

You are faithful, to yourself
it is to me, who I look up to
in the mirror and the stars in my eyes
You are my serenity but this voice,
intertwines the envy I feel
and my negligence into my stare at you,
I’m loosing my grip,

I’m, I’ve been alone a while
not only alone but my thoughts are somewhere
near the surface of the ocean
reflecting an album of my dreams
and how I speak to you loosely looking at the moon,

• am I abandoned, worthy of seconds
  the words I could phrase otherworldly
• I can’t tell, I’m faithless;
  in the mist of my preview, I can’t remember
  my initial step.

Father, I’ve let you down
your voice can’t reach me in light,
in darkness I dare not find it,
I’m a little lamb, little lamb to sleep
little lamb to dreams and the world in your palm
I’m miniscule, my voice hasn’t reached you too,
I’d like to keep kneeling
till my heart has synced with your sight,

I beg, don’t close your eyes yet;
your faith – to me – as I am
is living seconds trying to reach your shadow.