All the noise of the world,
can not make up for the silence in my heart.
For where once a lullaby of love was sung,
you can now only hear the beat of the drum.
Here on earth, magic used to exist,
displayed by the mysteries of nature
But now all that we have left,
is an explanation on a paper.
My childhood has passed,
no space to wonder anymore.
When even the shape of my heart,
made place for reality.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
All the noise of the world,
can not make up for the silence in my heart.
For where once a lullaby of love was sung,
you can now only hear the beat of the drum.
Here on earth, magic used to exist,
displayed by the mysteries of nature
But now all that we have left,
is an explanation on a paper.
My childhood has passed,
no space to wonder anymore.
When even the shape of my heart,
made place for reality.
I still can't put a finger on the moment where child becomes a grown up.
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