After all that toil, my journey is through.
I am home, to wander no longer.
My success has born such rich rewards.
Isn't comfort what we all long for?
My skin is satisfied, but my insides itch.
Embers call for me to blaze onward.
I'm growing bored of these restless hands.
I am not content with contentment.
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 8:26 AM UTC
After all that toil, my journey is through.
I am home, to wander no longer.
My success has born such rich rewards.
Isn't comfort what we all long for?
My skin is satisfied, but my insides itch.
Embers call for me to blaze onward.
I'm growing bored of these restless hands.
I am not content with contentment.
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