NAPATSORN TREESAP

If I were his cherished dream
Like I painted this angel in my head,
Would his flute make a sound just for me

If I were his friend guiding him the path to heaven
Like I painted this moment in reality,
Would he ever give me again for the eternity I dreamed of

If I were a sacred sin his soul was trying to reach
Like I managed to reach for the old me,
Would he ever find me in the way others cannot think of

That’s what I questioned him on and on and off
About the path he’s taken paved with the gravel stone
Even the road I drove was the one less traveled by
Even the most beautiful angels cry
Even his flute cannot bring me alive
I still fly through the air to his own breathe

© 2025 Napatsorn Treesap