Monday, January 29, 2007

Herein lies a hollow note
composed of all those spoken words
that never will be wrote
and even as the soul cries out
for life to start
and grace impart
herein lies those spoken words
and a broken heart

Gathered in the empty hands
to give to someone endlessly
someone truly grand
and even as the hands reach out
to give the gift
toward her lift
gathered in the empty hands
sands run through the rift

Where am I when I need strength?
the angry cynic drags me down
'long hell's steep banks' full length
and even as I'm breaking free
I think of you
all I can do
where was I at yesterday
when all of this was through?

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