Through the darkness I was able to see,
the ever so dim light that guided me,
the flicker of the flame, the thoughts in my brain,
all these guided me.
Guided me to a place I call home,
a place of warmth and cold,
a place I call my own,
a place than cannot be sold.
This home doesn't exist,
outside of me,
because home is where the heart is,
whever I want it to be.
So the lick of the flame,
the promise of home.
I search every day,
a place of my own.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
Through the darkness I was able to see,
the ever so dim light that guided me,
the flicker of the flame, the thoughts in my brain,
all these guided me.
Guided me to a place I call home,
a place of warmth and cold,
a place I call my own,
a place than cannot be sold.
This home doesn't exist,
outside of me,
because home is where the heart is,
whever I want it to be.
So the lick of the flame,
the promise of home.
I search every day,
a place of my own.