Imaginary Life

A commitment is a constrain.
it weigh you down like an iron chain.

Another shackle clasped on my feet,
another step slower than you,
my sweet.

An awkward venture
to a grey area that does not fit.
Along my path to you,
stood lamp posts that were not lit.

Groping in the midst of the murky mist,
their and our mindsets do not fit.

When can I accomplish this impossible feat?
After all this search,
would we eventually meet?

----------------------------------------------

I long for the day
when I need not speak in jargon.

There's no need for change
when the jargon itself
becomes a jargon no more.

Then we can take a nap on the bus,
and have a fluffy after that.

Life is boring,
so hasten up.

And save me from this fire
that I dared to play with.

Dispensing With the Jargon

Thus, here's a little more conundrum:
(It's self contradictory, but I couldn't resist xP)

The tears I shed,
were not only for the broken string of beads,
but also the pain that was inflicted,
upon the torn soul that the phantom left for me.

The torn soul
that was marred with scars
long before he came.

Wounds upon wounds
upon wounds.
Hopes after hopes
after hopes,
for wounds caused by hopes to heal.

P.S. Pardon my grammatical errors. >.<