Truth be told
I'd bet my soul.
I only get lonely in the mornings.
The cold breeds empty amidst the white light of the morning sun.
A good morning blue bird colors the hazey sky.
As the sunrise of solitude fills the air I ponder my soul.
I'd sell my soul if it turned back time to the place of orange sight.
A place in time before the silent night
To the place that lives in sets.
Where the sun waves goodbye and enters a full evening sky.
You are my only sunset.
I feel full at the peak of sunset.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Truth be told
I'd bet my soul.
I only get lonely in the mornings.
The cold breeds empty amidst the white light of the morning sun.
A good morning blue bird colors the hazey sky.
As the sunrise of solitude fills the air I ponder my soul.
I'd sell my soul if it turned back time to the place of orange sight.
A place in time before the silent night
To the place that lives in sets.
Where the sun waves goodbye and enters a full evening sky.
You are my only sunset.
I feel full at the peak of sunset.
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