Slowly these thoughts accumulate their burden on my mind is great forcing me to resort to sleep reforming all my love to hate I wake and I am drenched in sweat staring at my lonesome silhouette is that my future glancing at me drowned in salty waters, wet these words orbit inside my head what once flourished, now is dead constellations of man-made regrets of the twisted, tangled words I said
but what’s in my mind should not get out or in every other mind they’ll sprout
The miles between Your face unseen Your touch not felt The hand we’re dealt Forbidden dream The space between Your heart and mine Can’t cross the line Out of touch We want too much Cruel trick of time A mountain to climb A love so strong Can’t be wrong Even with the distance
A man, good with his hands lived at the bottom of a dale. Made a door and a frame. A beautiful entrance made of mahogany. He carried his masterpiece up to the top of the dale fastened it to the frame. Opened the door and walked out of his life. The door stood on the top of the vale in case he came back. The door blew down in a storm. In the blue hours of the day, a man was seen looking for his entrance. This was spooky no...