Saturday, August 20, 2016

Return?

If the roads were to break,
and the bridges were to burn,
and we were to fall,
 
away from 
everything;
 
I would paint your sorrows black
and swallow them 

for I have only known love;
 
and the rest of our days
wouldn't be this cold red.
 
But now the sun sets again
in our glorious lands,
and it is clear,
why we find peace in each other
and we become

fire.