I am not a poet,
Who writes a poem...
You've always been there,
I just could never see...
The light that guides us is so bright,
never to be seen by those in the night...
Broken glass falling to the floor
Everything I'm not today lies inside my palm...
Living a life of heartache and sin
Never fully understanding how to trust in him...
Eyes closed,
sight restored...
A force that pulls you both ways
Is the battle between them...
I don't want to live
But I never wished to die...
The bright day, the dark night
The gorgeous woman, the handsome man...
So here we are again
Another day of pain...
They say that things are meant to be
But that sounds like an easy way out...
Angels coming from above,
Benevolent beings, wings like a bird...