Falling softly, building up,
Soaking me in pain.
No hope or salvation;
Will I ever feel light again?
Without warning, no reason
For feeling this way.
It is real and it is raw;
In what game do we play?
Life's contest, our battle ground,
We face it each day.
Our destiny in our hands;
Or is it slipping away?
Our thoughts, good or bad,
They shape our moment.
We own them, control them;
Can they liberate us from torment?
You own how you are,
A solitary dancer.
Choose white, reject black;
Is this the simple answer?
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Falling softly, building up,
Soaking me in pain.
No hope or salvation;
Will I ever feel light again?
Without warning, no reason
For feeling this way.
It is real and it is raw;
In what game do we play?
Life's contest, our battle ground,
We face it each day.
Our destiny in our hands;
Or is it slipping away?
Our thoughts, good or bad,
They shape our moment.
We own them, control them;
Can they liberate us from torment?
You own how you are,
A solitary dancer.
Choose white, reject black;
Is this the simple answer?
