Words cut like knives
that pierce our bones,
summers fade
and hearts collapse.
Years from now
we'll remember these days,
the tears we cried
and the songs we sang.
We'll walk
through the fields,
we'll talk in the woods,
sing a song of our journey
and pray,
we never go through those days again.
But for now
we walk this barren land
wasted of breath
drained of tears,
waiting for the coming
of those golden years.
When worlds collide
all fears shall hide,
all sorrow gone.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Words cut like knives
that pierce our bones,
summers fade
and hearts collapse.
Years from now
we'll remember these days,
the tears we cried
and the songs we sang.
We'll walk
through the fields,
we'll talk in the woods,
sing a song of our journey
and pray,
we never go through those days again.
But for now
we walk this barren land
wasted of breath
drained of tears,
waiting for the coming
of those golden years.
When worlds collide
all fears shall hide,
all sorrow gone.
