I was tired of this insanity!
Our world made of vicious vanity.
Waiting for a piece of divine clarity,
begging for my forlorn ending charity.
I ran away on a whim
in a bout of rebellious naivety.
Heard whispers from other worlds—
an impossible adventure of unspeakable rarity.
So I wrecked this frail body,
pushed through torrents bloody.
Every second was excruciating
but we all endure necessary agony.
I know only where I must go,
towards this fabled land, forgottenly old.
There's no mysterious map to help
nor a soul to be found en route.
Only whispers of a vague promise,
one which can never be enforced.
Yet it's mere possibility
feeds my wanderlust of love.
This place somewhere near heaven
a love said to reside so true,
it can mend what's broken,
make it whole and true.
This place somewhere near heaven,
a person said to live so pure,
even Gods can not find faults,
learn from the love that endlessly endures.
I pray to chance upon it someday,
breathe the same air as this divine dame.
If I'm ever as lucky as the number seven,
to stumble across her land just North of Heaven.