another song

Its coming back again. Its bloody late again and i cant sleep, selective insomnia, but things have cascaded and a song took form from a poem i wrote awhile ago. A real song, one that seems real and truthful enough to myself to accept. Most of the others were just husks, empty, void. Its short and sweet. Well, not sweet. Haunting at least, as Fiza says it.
Some things i keep my own. I never dare sing my songs. They're mine alone. I'd never dare.