It's a petty game indeed
pulls, levers and strings
Subtle gestures and creeping intentions
unfulfilled wishes and craving tensions
Of things so frail too often unspent
when hearts rest frozen, unwoven, deads
And silence become a mutual struggle
a language of eyes and micro expressions
Amongs the many that take their turn
we moves like shadows, deities or fools
In between the ones that win the prize
we seek a reckoning with kindred minds
Our blissful folly, our childish cry
to be one of two, to be called mine
