All my dreams flow,
Into warped confusion,
Oh, and how I know,
That storm clouds breed illusion,
How this desolate heart is torn, by the storms of yesterday.
Tempest tears spring,
From rooms of darkened memories,
Sadness moving slow,
Stir the walls with jaded tapestries,
And roll the river wild when the treetops start to sway.
A silent garden grows,
Lush with flowers on uncertainty,
Moonlight tangled in the throes,
With the winding vines of jealousy,
And tend the bitter nectar deep inside.
Falling petals filld with doom,
Hide their fragrance for eternity,
For the beauty never blooms,
In the mind of insecurity,
And the rainbow never shines in darkened skies.
