Constance
The change is constant, constant means change
For a soul who endeavors massive rocky plains
As I walk tirelessly, surviving on self belief
That a change shall return, and return my dreams
Change then presents itself, granted me a pitch
When hopes rise to the mountain tip, and drown into the seas
As I seeks refuge in constant, the more furious is change
And why does it swing so hard, when I hold unto you harder??
Would change then bring my dream closer? And what would I need
To ride on change, without falling flat on my face
I dream of you every night and day,
And have you felt the sincerity, that lies deep within the footsteps
Of the little walk in the past 65 days
And one day, I fear my journey might end
When change decides to rid of me, and my tiny self believe
That you are a god-sent, where every moment tastes sweet
until change becomes constant, and devours every bit of me
