I don't know more, than of what I've already seen, where teardrops frame the world of my dreams.
And sing in my heart, music of the soul, where every broken moment, weaves inside & out
Dreary dearth of night, symphony of light, each small thing brought in, and gathered in my soul
And these memories I hold dear, with each are more of me - scattered into many parts torn free.
so lonely I lay and wait for dawn again, 'neath memories gone cold within the grey...
Namadgi





