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BECAUSE BOOKS ARE HARD AND FULL OF PUBLISHERS

Through a Looking Glass Darkly

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Then We'll Talk

Nov 15, 2021
1 min read

I found a garden made of memories

Where nothing new could ever grow

And though the thorns and vines were weary

I worked my hands into the soil

But how

In the world

Can you you leave me

When you know

What I am

On my own?

Should I wait or do I wander?

I cant remember what's to know

Was the lesson just to listen?

Is it all just yet to show?

But why

Is it more

Than I can be

If its true

I'm alive

Just to see?

Cause I've been looking for light to sleep in

Hoping you would call me home

I'd give everything I found here

And sing songs of all I know

So is this silence and this mountain

Something of me or is it stone?

I've left ages on this spirit

And I don't want to be alone

So where'd you go?

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