Gifts
I have become the enemy of time,
as arrows march and leave behind.
It’s cruel to love and throw aside,
but the hope, the silence, that’s the crime.
I wait for God to show me signs.
The grip on my soul is death and tight.
I loved so much and lost my mind,
how tragic to love, when love’s just mine.
To be left with questions, wondering why.
To be left with faith, is to live while you die.
For true love, it waits and it lies,
to nobody but you, that it will be alright.
For we, the long forgotten empty souls,
always there when they call.
Although it’s cold, down below,
I’d freeze to death so she is warm.
We the puppets and they our masters,
leave us begging high, for time to run much faster.
For they moved on, but we slaves to answers,
and it’s hard to walk right on, when you wrote them books, but you’re a chapter.
After, I have faded into dark,
I ask this world with all my heart.
Keep her smiling and keep her calm,
make sure she is sheltered from the storm.
Even when they drained us and we are gone,
my love will live forever, it will go right on.
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