Flying high above the clouds
Seeing the past behind depart
Brings a new feeling of relief to my eyes
I now see that life isn’t just spent in time
But with memories
The moments where we find ourselves utterlly broken down,
Spending time in a wasteland
We have lived in the moment of pure disaster
And chaos seems to find it’s way in
Time and time again
Spent letting the tears fall upon this wasteland
But none have succeeded in watering it
While, memories live here
Our thoughts escape our actions
Creating depth in this place
With its soil too dry for harvest
And it’s land cracked
Nothing dares to Sprout from its floor
This place is one where memories come to die

Memories shift the tides,
Always changing the landscape
Turning cracks and soil
Into a masterpiece of color and thought
The wasteland,
Turns into miles and miles
Of Green
Never begging for the fallen tears
Of memories, that were produced from disaster
Withering away with the thoughts that created
The wasteland.
Connecting thought to action and action
To thought
Turning tables have flipped perspectives
Day after day, year after year
Once more the Green has Grown again
And the drought was nothing but a
Distant Memory