February 3, 2011
Footprint marks in my lonely heart;
Morning, night, even in the sunlight;
Fingers brush away the dust of pat, present, and future;
The burns of the heat underneath the souls of my feet, the souls of my heart;
A slow beat recedes into the vast heaps of heavens arms;
Embrace the footprints on your once beating lonely heart

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback