Rocks, Stones, Dirt beneath my feet. It's strange how you sustain me You hold the water I drink. The meals that I eat.
Yet my spirit want's to soar on the wind. My body to die returning to dust. Back to the Earth again. Or so the body must.
Burning soul, eyes of fire. A heart of a fool, filled with desire. Wind to cool, yet fuel the fire. Burning soul, taken higher.
What is this tear in your eyes? Fate will bring us together again. Maybe on a stary night? Possibly in the morning light? Maybe at life end? Why do you wonder? Should I ponder the reasons it must end? For life comes from dirt, on the souls of the hurt. In the spirit of the wind.
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-08-19 07:42:29
Last Login: 05.24.12
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