Seperation an ultimate test
Of freedom and capacities
Over magnetism of desires
And crossing looks of terror
Tearing up a sleeping dreamer
And in its place a sleeping disorder
As ordinary becomes past
And home is absent from its class

The stomaches of the turning point
Seems to gesture towards one thing wrong
But seperation needs to be
For the place is opened for free
My sweat running on the sweet
Taste of bitter anxiety
And throughout the world I see at last
Where we started as a turning gasp

On a bed so small
Where the floor is my only friend
Going there yet again
No regrets but thoughtful strain
Through the hard days of rain
Through the long nights of pain
Seperation is now my fable
So God must think I’m able