A drop, a plop
Nightmare on
Slow breathe, fast heart
The chase, the run
Filthy streets
The cries, save me
The hand, the grab
Free me, reach me
The crowd, the noise
No one sees
No one stops
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Memories
I want a basket to store these memories
To keep them close and safe and hidden
I would open it when I grow old
I want the roses in there too
To keep them smelling good
They fragile, let me wrap them in silk
To keep them close and safe and hidden
I would open it when I grow old
I want the roses in there too
To keep them smelling good
They fragile, let me wrap them in silk
And preserve them
Or, I could just let them go
And travel the world
Fly with the northern cold wind
Sit on the sand
Or, I could just let them go
And travel the world
Fly with the northern cold wind
Sit on the sand
Dance with the storm
Run with the kings
Hunt with the beasts
And soar high like a bird
Run with the kings
Hunt with the beasts
And soar high like a bird
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)