Is it heartfelt peace we due indure,
Or madness ehoe at the door.
For war intrudes the life of death.
As winter to the storm it rests.
The falling snow will empty guilt,
Upon a thousand chairs men built.
And static blue enters your soul,
As magnetic and so suredly full.
A belly full but empty till,
The rising dawn so ever still.
And nature wakes to save the dance,
Of another soft and sweet perchance.
Bring me to an empty room,
And smoke until the chemichal blue.
For nothing less in shear display.
Is the gold and the silver of the day.
The darkness weeps because its mad,
Under the stars whom shooting sad.
And enters into only black, black day.
My hearts astray.
But worry naught my love so true,
As i feel the warmth and enter you.
Because the lilly on the pond.
Will sing our song.