The Unwilling Wanderer
I don’t wish to be a wanderer but maybe fate has written this as my destiny. To know its taste but only be able to take sips from love’s stream.
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It’s the way we dance
The way you and I dance over bottles of wine plants the thought of forever in my mind.
God I’m calling, do you hear me?
I Prayed for a path from the bottom to the top of the mountain, but unaware of how to interpret the answers to prayer. God I’m calling, do you hear me?
Who’s To Say
Who’s to say what perfection is, what if our perception of life is the complete opposite to that of its architect?
Pockets of time
We escape into pocket of time created for only you and I, what we do will remain in our memories and replayed only when we’re back in those pockets of time.
I’m A Hypocrite
I’m a hypocrite hiding from the same thing that i seek. In loves pursuit, I’m my own enemy that keeps me from it.
My self haunting
Running from the pain of the world wishing for peace when what haunts us most is ourselves, and the questions we leave unanswered my self haunting.
Love’s Faucet Drips
Love’s faucet drips as it’s sources dry, blocked by modern logs of insecurity and reason, hearts congested out of fear to connect.
Fading Reminiscence
To remember fading the ecstasy of a passion combined with beauty, is it better to have never had it, or to have and then lost it completely.