Friday, February 10, 2012
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
The grass withereth,the flower fadeth;
Time goes on and dreams go dead.
Unanswered prayers become forgotten,
Dreams of the young grow cold and rotten.
The mundane weighs heavily on him
Penance for some inadvertent sin?
The stars call out but his sky is black;
This hopeless reality holds him back.
Some dark cloud follows him around.
It sheds no light and it makes no sound;
It rains down heavily and extinguishes
The bright flames of his deepest wishes.
He could have,but didn’t want to run away
Coulda escaped but he’d much rather stay
Than take the easy road ,betray his kind;
Sell out his spirit-his very soul and his mind.
And now he’s tired and the hour is late,
His feelings are rusted,his dreams all dead .
The grass withereth;The flower fadeth.