the faces of strangers
and in the parting hour, memory is finally given back, given away, given up. and you have nothing left to show for it but this empty wish. wish empty, wish empty - hold up your broken bowl and wish. [the surge of anonymity in the faces of strangers].
posted by sapphiretowergirl at 11:32 PM
1 Comments:
but there is a voice that lingers in my mind,
there is hope that holds me by the margin,
there are winds that prevent my flight,
there is love unconditional, that is reaon beyond:
And when they call: i ask with complete abandon; give me those years, those years of life spent in a dream.
Always.
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