May'be one day those skies will turn blue, and just maybe that buried sun will shine through. No use comes from a body that feels dead, and I cry these tear drops of destruction I shed, in hope that they might wash the whole world away, and turn my thunder storm into a lighter shade of gray. And with every foot print I make, in it's own is a salty lake, made from the streams of tears I tried to hide, but my broken heart would not confide. And I guess one day a dim light will shine, but until then what comfort can I find?
Lonely Walk Through Life
January 14, 2010