Let the sky not sink its moon, the white light calls in me the deepest thoughts. I wait no longer for the sun to become in the sky so full of secrets. It will rise to bring me yet another day like the one before. What is the purpose of a starry day when the very souls in us have to return to the melancholy situation of the dark?
Ever asked the Lord why the good souls land up wounded? Ever considered what it would be like to live the perfect being? I never have known of the perfect one on the face of this mystical object held up so gracefully in the endless hollow.
Why does anything happen the way it happens? The moon has shown the light, the sun has shown the mighty glow, when will our souls see the light? The light I’d will to see as to where the good beings go.
Where does Lord keep His Book of Books? There, it is written the winding decisions of my life. There it is written a script of my life. My wishes, my commands, my wants, my lust, my love, my thoughts, my search, my death…
No comments:
Post a Comment