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Summer
The sun shines,
The flowers grow,
Life moves on,
As I grow old.
The wind hugs the day,
The birds sing away,
But my sorrow stays,
Like the tears; it remains.
And scars to skin,
Breath and pain,
Just living until my own death day.
When cold will embrace me,
no more light to my face,
Nor words of sadness,
Or emptiness in its wake.
When the blood doesn't move,
And the eyes stay in place,
Where my mind sleeps eternally,
And I rest in an infinity.
No need for love,
no need for grace,
just peace in the nothingness, laying in an endless sea of space.
No more hanging my hat,
or me laying shoes by the mat,
no more setting clocks,
or packing lunch.
No more writing,
and no more words,
for when I die, my sorrow will leave this world.
The flowers grow,
Life moves on,
As I grow old.
The wind hugs the day,
The birds sing away,
But my sorrow stays,
Like the tears; it remains.
And scars to skin,
Breath and pain,
Just living until my own death day.
When cold will embrace me,
no more light to my face,
Nor words of sadness,
Or emptiness in its wake.
When the blood doesn't move,
And the eyes stay in place,
Where my mind sleeps eternally,
And I rest in an infinity.
No need for love,
no need for grace,
just peace in the nothingness, laying in an endless sea of space.
No more hanging my hat,
or me laying shoes by the mat,
no more setting clocks,
or packing lunch.
No more writing,
and no more words,
for when I die, my sorrow will leave this world.