How do you explain us? Maybe you don’t? Maybe you can’t? Even after all the love, all the madness, the happiness, and the heartache I still could not let go. Our love was a different kind of love an invisible kind. The type that lived beyond the physical realm. Where only the soul could see.
We all have an Artistic flare Some with words While others paint With colors Songs written Voices heard Others make You laugh Or even cry Some can touch You With words Or a sympathetic Hand Everyone is an Artist With a different canvas To paint on Everyone has their Own Style
In my dreams I'm finding you beneath the stars, on a sunny day, in the rain, on a clear night, between the sheets, in the middle of the afternoon, before the sun comes up ...it will always be you.
let the steps lead you to the other side of the door
make your way trough the light of rocking branches, nursing little buds in the distance the snow caresses their sleep the wind from time to time is shaking the remnants of fright