Travels Through the Mist

Waterfalls move on through time holding mem'ries brought to mind, But like moments gone before there be nothing left to find. Faces in a painted crowd fix their eyes upon the game In which passing lives are played beyond footprints of the lame. Love has left it's broken soul on a vacant one-way street, He'll be chasing rainbows gone 'till his journey is complete. Moonbeams paint the childhood dreams in the whitewash of old age, While hopes fade forevermore with the passing of the sage. Weariness moves us through mist and lost days for which we yearn, Bluebirds wait their happy songs for the spirit to return.