Clouded Spirits

CATEGORY

just different

Maybe I’ve been thinking too much,
Of such as floors with no ceilings to touch.
When the sky moves forward, ground backwards and I stand still,
I ask how much time is there that I can kill?...
When love and hate is strong who controls the will?...
Look for the eyes that see through the walls you build.
See behind that, there’s a place where the truth is ceiled.
Grab that and you’ll find the strength that the truth can yield.
You can’t lie down to hear the sound,
Of the flying spirits underground.
You can’t un-find what is found....
Find your light in the dark
And re-ignite your spark.
Then go to feed the pigeons at the park
Because judging is judging yourself.
Loving is loving yourself
And running is running to death...