The Courier

I am no more than an Courier A wanderer through life Words are what I choose to cling to Purveyor of the times Spending forbidding moments in the desert Just to watch it bloom at night The chilling winds that blow the stinging sands Help create that which I write I look for answers in the greyest of skies Where there's no limit to the powers that be The howling wind changes the shape I'm in That only the darkness it can see The river that flows freely from my soul Starts out where this life fails to end And when it reaches its destination The tide will rise again...