It Does Not Sound Right

My heart is not pumping, my hands are so cold
I'm shaking inside, but my soul isn't sold
It's almost like death, it's almost like life
It's turning me round, and it cuts like a knife
It feels like a love, but it's cold as it’s been
It must be a crime; oh it must be a sin
I don't want to feel any more of this stress
My mind says "oh no!", But my heart's saying "yes"
This new emotion, this feeling of mine
It makes me worship, and it makes you divine
And I swear that I know it's not all and all right
I tried to forget, but it's too good a sight
It's crazy, insane, it is not making sense
It's like yearning the grass which is outside the fence
I'm making this image of you in my mind
You're gliding in it, I hardly grind
Now I'm falling down low, and you're rising up high
But I can't justify, no I won't justify

by : Me

8:30 p.m.
Saturday, April 18, 2009