I talk to you-
about how the moon turns...
--
smoldering words ignite again...
The last time I saw Beirut,
a full moon was curbing its rooftops...
Ode to the man who once learned to weep,
Ode to the winter, the shepherd and his sheep...
Her eyes are
stained glass windows...
I think I'll just climb inside
my mind for a while...
Under every dark, hidden corner -
there is a soul buried within mossy tears...
Cry,
release me to the wind...
Sitting in the road
Watching the clouds coming in...
we carry the hurt in our hearts,
swallowing it every time our...
It isn't going very well.
I'm not myself...
All these rivers flood
into Ganges - sustain life...