A few miles feels like we are oceans apart,
Battling against a tide of cars and trains
To reach your arms,
Even when we are beneath the same quilt,
It feels as if the rolling waves of creased bed sheets
Separates us from being connected,
I wait patiently, On the cliffs edge of a station platform,
For the sails to catch the fume stained wind of another train engine,
To be hurtled through fields that burn beneath the sun,
Past speeding cars and clouds that drift peacefully
Across the vast skies that echo adventure and longing,
Only to reach the final destination of your safety.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
A few miles feels like we are oceans apart,
Battling against a tide of cars and trains
To reach your arms,
Even when we are beneath the same quilt,
It feels as if the rolling waves of creased bed sheets
Separates us from being connected,
I wait patiently, On the cliffs edge of a station platform,
For the sails to catch the fume stained wind of another train engine,
To be hurtled through fields that burn beneath the sun,
Past speeding cars and clouds that drift peacefully
Across the vast skies that echo adventure and longing,
Only to reach the final destination of your safety.
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