Nearby as a thought, Invisible as a prayer
Where are we? How is it we got here?
From the cares of a crook, to your lovers look
All wandering, Our lives peripatetic
Seems as if I've reached the end, ah I finally feel beginning
A pasts waste of taste and stonewalling
The emptiness that appeals to distract, void we try and fill
Will forever last, to continuously spill
That body that I seem to miss, Hell, feels so oneiric
Though I feel it shading in, Heaven, I can hear it
Over heartbeats we'll create melodies
Under times stop, make memories
Dallas Shea Smith©
Summer '09
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