bilius:

There’s something hilarious about being both a procrastinator and a perfectionist.

Wanderlust

The sky is dull tonight
it’s the dullest of the nights
I ever came by
I can’t lure the Sun with my
silvered words
not even the ones that I’m brave enough
to speak, but I want more than this life,
I want more than the prewritten destiny
hiding inside dying stars
that won’t even shine upon me.
Don’t underestimate me.
I’m an anguished voyager
trapped inside a circle doomed to
wander the same distances forever.
I don’t take pity unless from star-crossed
deities from long lost mythologies
or planets constellated so that
attempts at escaping are futile
and going back isn’t an option
there’s only a straight line to
be crossed, alike Icarus did with
flaming feathers in attempt
to capture freedom forever
trying for he could wait no longer for
what may never come, that day he
set the line between possibility
that everyone dreamed of
and the scorching impossibility
of all that we don’t understand
and maybe I’m Icarus
yearning for something more
upon every step I take
my feathers long melted off
and the only thing that flies me
is searing pain of knowing
I want something more than this life
that I’ll never make to achieve