An Old Day of a Live Night
I've fallen into a question of cause
I've fallen in love
I hate waking the spirit in sleep
missing the event of a kiss
I hear the breath of the past
I feel it in the breeze
Knowing no stategies
it passes through the trees
The moon is my friend
The night sky was meant for me
I love to whistle to the thin clouds in the breeze
When I'm with you
I drift into another light
I can see far, faraway
into this live night
Copyright © 2009 John E. WordSlinger
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