Whispers yet colder by the night
Windy days with white skies I sonder
I wonder
Dark beneath our eyes
Within our eyes
A book closed
Pages bent like a rush
Lines left unread
Wishing to be read
Maybe not
Perhaps instead
A dream that’s dead
Hard to be thought when we’re always on the run
Harder to be said no matter where we’re from
Easy to believe
I see it all the time
Yet sometimes looks can be deceiving
Somehow, I’m still believing
There’s more than what lies behind
Ahead
Whispers soft in the morning
Lasting but a moment
Fading certain but the memory remains within
Of snow and sin
