Harvest

Written by: Caleb Smith

I stand in the fog of a country morning
Harvested fields all a-dying
Hunting hawks all a-crying
Among the stalks left behind
As I am now, inside my mind

I walk in the cold of an Autumn day
Chilling my lips...breezes blowing
Hiding away...no sun is showing
And from my mind I push away
All the things I could not say

I hide in the shadows of a winter's night
The stars grow old
As the night grows cold
And I pray for the sight
To see my love tonight