The Roam of Plains Thought

I wonder how do ship float upon the sea Is it the friction with the salty water? Or its the way the nature flows? Can I lay without sinking? Could you held me without thinking? Are the friction work with my soul? Or its the way his creation written? May I feel the crossing line Even if its in the midst of the traffic? May the crowd and the yell gone Even if my soul need them like an air? How to touch your fingers through the cloud? How to do all of the free fall in the Kilimanjaro sky? Are the skyline look heavenly in the dusk? And does the cold heavy air break your breath? Are all or this asking mean a thing If my hand are still cover by the phone? Will he going to the heaven if He stop loving me and saying the goodbye Cause he will begun to shink unto his dusty Canopi bed like a fallen old germany building The bed will be elated to be wash Only if the body is attached with its garment Does this old men are really my dad sun Next to his passed moon? Does this old silk men will bestowed me Only with sorrow and grief A grief that so grey that only seing one's born is the solem path to gain other color But a fooll on its own head if he not thought Of getting in touch with the shallow sea and the blue sky ceiling The line will once again bow to his new lord And suddenly disappeared Only to gave the unmarked blank plains Eagerly for me to roam with freedom