Wishes

My words to you, dark and damp they be,
Shining none to see, hiding's all they do,
Why must it be you?
Why must it be me?

Spinning on the stars, righting none the wrongs,
Liking once the songs, feelings though are sparse,
The heart is truly scarce.
The footsteps lately long.

The walls greatly cramps, tunnel lights do fade,
Though I do evade, my marks clearly lamps,
Running gives no thanks.
Walking gets me dead.