Cold Mountains of The Heart
Behind our dirty windows you look out from I can hear the familiar gut wrenching rhythm of crying, like guitars whaling, a soul wanting to change. A change just like the leaves showing the world a beautiful death each year with the absence of fear and for the change of both love and light. Sitting here left alone, sitting here on fire with my teeth bleeding for the lack of words and spilling with fear and anger………somebody find my light. Please somebody touch me with your benevolent sun with one kiss.
© TSS 2016/03/15
Response to our Inspiration Call on March 15th 2016
Categories: Featured Writer's