You strike me as irreverent, 
adhered to your principals, 
behaving as they 
have told you to behave, 
out of fear, out of sorrow,
					but do you actually 
					question your words?

You strike me as incomplete, 
striving for completeness,
when there is nothing to be found,
					but a passion to be bound
					from the freedom you can't find,
do you distinguish fear from love?

Stop your comparison,
take a step back,
make your vision blurry,
					what is reality?

		Is it your blindness
		that hurts 
	or 
		my blurred
	insight translated 
into happiness?

You strike me as empty, 
trying to fill your world with words 
that adhere to the principle 
that rejects my passionate 
ways of not giving answers, 
					but striving to provide 
					examples made out of dust. 

Perhaps, my dusty ways 
will infuse your eyes
with clarity, 
and you will stop that chase
that takes you nowhere, 
but gives those 
who are as blind 
as you are
the right state of mind
that empties their words
until they see the world
					as it really is, 
					and not how 
					they think it is.  

Setting the world in fire, 
a wrath of words, 
that sets them free as I am, 
and you wish you were
by being who you think I am, 
but not who I really am
unless you burn with them,
killing me in the process,
but not killing my essence
because I don't depend 
on words to exist. 

Although, 
		you might be afraid 
		you will die with me.

I need not to know,
	as you do,
I need not to think,
	as you do,
I need not to possess,
	as you do, 
so once and for all, 
					let me go,
					love me so,
					let me go.
Signature Lina Ru