The ebb of time pushes me sometimes gentle, sometimes rough.
I try to burn my way through but it is never quite enough.
Of course I stumble, and of course I fall.
I know a different god, not none at all.
Why do we point the blame for all the bad things we did?
I pray not for myself, I pray for this;
Find wonder at sorrow and love in hate.
The day is over, but it is not too late.
Is ignorance the crime or is it bliss?
I find myself watching with a heart, not a fist.
I try to burn my way through but it is never quite enough.
Of course I stumble, and of course I fall.
I know a different god, not none at all.
Why do we point the blame for all the bad things we did?
I pray not for myself, I pray for this;
Find wonder at sorrow and love in hate.
The day is over, but it is not too late.
Is ignorance the crime or is it bliss?
I find myself watching with a heart, not a fist.
shreya756
Aidyl
Jennaaa
His-Bright-Green-Eyes...
bookworm97
Sydney/Rain
lexi10824
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