Skyscrapers don’t appeal to him, he’d rather watch the stars,
no more drunk, patched-eyed women, he stays away from bars.
He’s most pure under the obsidian sky,
he’s not ashamed of the constant question of why he wants to die.
What he yearns for is the pain to stop,
to open up his heart that remains on lock.
A scarred and bruised heart never beats the same,
it’s going to take time to show him that this is not a game.
But for now, they watch God and wait,
to know for sure if this is all fate.