Thought Dream
I walk through the scented air of summer's blooming
Into the frozen air of winter's dying,
And as tears inside me fall
The pain of old wounds
Call me to mend them,
And I realize once more
That things done before
Have no ending.
I feel the cold of eve slowly waning.
As sun burst rays of warmth overtake me.
And the twisted seeds of doubt
Which spread my sins about
Lie parched and withered.
Claims me at last
For it's not over.
Autor(es): Joe McDonald
