One day the music won't play
to drown out the cursing,
the mind won't runaway
to where the feet can't be,
or the lips wrench smiles
from pain the heart is nursing.
One the day the turmoil will simply...
fade away from me.
One day a song will lull me,
soft and low,
like a dream calling from long ago.
The feet will walk gently
to the doorsteps of peace
and the lips will smile
at the heart's release.
Till that day, I will carry my burden well
till God comes along
to take me out of Hell.
YOU ARE READING
The Wanderer: A Collection of Poetry
PoetryA collection of musings on immortality, sadness, death and loss, and the hope of eventual happiness.
