burdens are loads of weight
shoulders were made for carrieng
emotions are within
only the soul can carry the heavy feelings

sentiments make what the external cant
the external is perfect
too perfect for the heart to comprehend
by the soul, the heart cries

real tears are better than a crying soul
a wet face has less pain than a dry spirit
dead I lie on the scorching desert sand
its my inner thats feeling the burn

breathe strokes get shorter every year
the weeks are not as long
the sun does not rise anymore
when again will the eyes of my soul see dawn again