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| I am cold and lonely, wild winds rage all around, Hard rain beats down upon my brow, blinding my vision to a world that surrounds my being, and yet I see the warm shadow of the sun burning across my horizon, she beckons me to venture forth, Still I make not a move. I am cold and lonely, my thoughts entwine in rage, am I safe inside the sanctuary of my own darkness or do I yearn, yearn for that which I only see and hear, but do not feel. What shall but I do? And still I make not a move, WHY? David Swain - M.a.i.p.c |
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