Mark The Phenomenon

A Wilted Flower

For I may never see the truth
I am not a saint
I am not a perfect person
life burns the body
I am a believer
I get down on my knees
and pray all the time
I Am a sinner
I am but a lost soul
I am but a wilted flower
as I clasp my hands and grieve,
your voice plagues the heart
I am but a wilted flower
the anguish plagues
the pain plagues
washed away by life\'s constant toll
I am but a broken dream
I am but a wilted flower