i write words of love, yet i have not loved
how can i be writing things which i have not felt ?!
could it be that i have indeed loved, once, without even knowing
could it be, that my hate and resentment, was once love, so long time ago ??

if i have not loved, how can i hate ?!
how can one know sadness without knowing what happiness is ??
if i have not loved, than what is this i feel
whenever i see this shadow in my dreams
even now, i still see him, passing through every corner of my dreams
those feelings beyond what words can say
those feelings, only felt when i'm in my dreams
so real, yet so unreal...
for i can no longer tell a dream from the real world
when i'm seeing him even with eyes wide open

juz a shadow lingering by my side
he is my only sanity, reminding me hate is not all i have
even when noone else knows that he's there, he's there
even if noone belives he's there, he's there
by my side, even when i'm awake
to remind me that even if the whole world hates me now
at least i'll have 1 person who i can turn to
and trust that he, and only he, will not betray me
as we are one and the same..
he is my madness, and my sanity
the part of myself where i retreat to when seeking peace
the part i retreat to when i need a solitary place

yes, i think i've loved, and am still loving
but the object of my love and hatred may not be what i thought to be
it's no the world, or other people, which i loved or hated
it was me, myself all along, all these times
it's juz me, myself, in a world of my own