The sweet feeling of independence entangles itself into my soul as time passes and bad memories grow old. The feeling of an evenings summer's breeze caressing your hair as enjoyment becomes irresistible as a puppies innocent stare.

Her name was Maybelle Brown. She fell in the lake one morning and drown. Every night they hear her retchid sounds. She screams and screams, a demon she has been deemed. She stares back at you with a porcelain face and bright blue eyes, lurks in the mist with no blue skies, cry and find her as you hear her cries. Dead since eighteen eighty five not one soul in the lake has been found alive.
Will you join me for a dive?

Innocence seems like a thing of the past
Nowadays it makes you look like an outcast
Needing to search for things that are pure
Obstacles get in the way that's for sure
Connecting the dots to a much simpler life
Every attempt to break away from the strife
New life blooms deep down inside of my heart
Creating a waterfall not knowing where to start
Eleveating to a level that you can never part

People carry hearts, not within the chest. Inside the sleeve. Love is a rare spoken language as the world silently grieves.