The words dry out
And every feeling floats
In a river where a fisherman
Empty-handed heads home
My heart sinks below all the feelings that run
And your touch would silence the old souls that sung
The song of the divine in my ears
Telling me to give out to my fears
I close my ears shut and listen to your breath
Like wind blowing away
All the dead leaves that fell
Giving hope of a flourishing season to come
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 7:22 AM UTC
The words dry out
And every feeling floats
In a river where a fisherman
Empty-handed heads home
My heart sinks below all the feelings that run
And your touch would silence the old souls that sung
The song of the divine in my ears
Telling me to give out to my fears
I close my ears shut and listen to your breath
Like wind blowing away
All the dead leaves that fell
Giving hope of a flourishing season to come
