I'm traveling the darkest places -
greeting all the faceless faces
and the world just feels like huge mess:

life is hoppskotting over the obstacles
highheels on.

Nighttime, twilight.
Dead lights, dark hopes.

I'm resquing my sanity by staying insane,
dwelling in shadows which are calling my name.
Travelling faster, maybe ending too soon 
but the lights are still on.


Just like a moth into the flame I do fly -
the quiet ones might wonder why.
I do dream of painting the nightsky.
So the world might stop and count me in.

(Cast me out.)