Come and See
Abruptly into that terrible morning,
gentle prayers fell carefully and sorely.
A fall that somehow caused something else to be;
Fostering something of what still remains as a secret to me.
Partially alone because it's solely with its own echo yet following a tempo from another persons past, rippling into all that I can still see, straight to our windy and currently blown unwinding day; thrown through some words, then some words, and then again. But now always it's said amongst of what I remember as your favorite shade.
I follow and I listen til I feign a glance,
I can't look so all I hear is;
"Come and See,"
But i miss
"Come and Stay"
If there was still that good night to spiral into,
Would it have always been a disguise for the physical embodiment absence, or maybe had it left and just gone away? Or had it been I who'd gone past?
The good night to go into, the charitable glory
Hidden in "all of its absence," aspires to be that key of the early, for the secured night we wish not to reach.
Cluttered from those words, into ripples, subtly becoming a strength the soulful struggle to have.
Let hardship be the language god speaks,
Until our hearts split from genuinely listening;
'The sudden' appears,
We pardon through acceptance,
Regardless of the odd or steep,
We learn to let go, just to let it be.
Begin the start of the blind mans holiday,
Listen to what a mad man rambles when he just wants to sleep
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