Ghosts in my tears
I drip sweet images of your face from my lashes
My reality a facade crumbles and crashes
Down around me my kingdom falls
Held together by string and straw
Brown orbs flecked with gold
Intensity burns a story to be told
We made sense
We fit
We were just right
What is it that made you not want to fight
You gave up on us you took to flight
You will never know how you broke my heart
With one sentence my life was ripped apart
I drifted and stumbled through the rest of those years
Adrift on a river made of my tears
Beaten and scarred I rose from the ashes
With images of you still on my lashes
I never forgot you, your always right here
Just in the shadows just one of my ghosts that I hear
They beckon and call me out in the night
Memories of you shining bright
My beacon in the darkness I shall follow
A few moments with them they allow me to borrow
Time with the image of the one on my lashes
And it starts all over
The facade crumbles and crashes
My reality a facade crumbles and crashes
Down around me my kingdom falls
Held together by string and straw
Brown orbs flecked with gold
Intensity burns a story to be told
We made sense
We fit
We were just right
What is it that made you not want to fight
You gave up on us you took to flight
You will never know how you broke my heart
With one sentence my life was ripped apart
I drifted and stumbled through the rest of those years
Adrift on a river made of my tears
Beaten and scarred I rose from the ashes
With images of you still on my lashes
I never forgot you, your always right here
Just in the shadows just one of my ghosts that I hear
They beckon and call me out in the night
Memories of you shining bright
My beacon in the darkness I shall follow
A few moments with them they allow me to borrow
Time with the image of the one on my lashes
And it starts all over
The facade crumbles and crashes
posted by A Farce called Life at 12:03 PM
1 Comments:
Let me be blunt: you seem to be trapped in an emotional hole that you keep digging deeper and deeper. Your body may walk around being a mother and wife, but your heart is lost in the wildnerness of the past, searching for a ghost that isn't searching for you.
You need to exocise the spirit that haunts you, Amy. It offers you nothing but ashes, regret, and sadness. The past is dead, but you have life in you and around you. Only life yields pleasures, security, happiness, hope, and LOVE.
Trade your forlorn memories of the dead-and-gone past for the joyful memories that you can be creating today. I don't mean to sound trite, but the Beatles were right when they said, "The love you take is equal to the love you make."
Post a Comment
<< Home