We are born afraid
Of the shattered pieces that come
Maybe we are supposed to break
For the gold cracks of light
to shine through us.

Tell me stories of the man
Who loved the moon so much
He bared his soul to her every night

The waves of my heart,
Call out to your shore.

In this sacred place
Within me
Are the eyes I never knew
The wiser version of me
The temple of my soul
Watching over me
Painting out my path
Of who I am
Calling out my name
And who am I?
“Warrior”

Smoking out my window.
Crisp autumn breeze.
Candle barely alive.
I swear to myself.
I’ll have to let you go.
But just like the smoke I blow out.
It always comes back in.

I’ve searched my whole life.
For the fire that is you.
But every time I’m close
Upon that smoke filled path
I can only play with the white haze
I still can’t face the fire.
The fire that is you.