Vanishing from all hope or so it seems
Living here upon this
Boulevard of broken dreams
Behind these layers of our illusion
What is truly left behind
The sandy shore, the wooden floors
The pocket watch wanting for a dime
Where desperation always looms
Thoughts are seldom seized nor groomed
Marked by souls with other brooms
Lost within these various places
No one really see their faces
Hidden in the flooring
Are they mooring by the sea
As they watch us from the trees
Will they fall like rustic leaves
To only walk the golden mile
To wait before but never smile
To shed the tears of hopeless doubt
To only listen before they shout
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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This one's sad: seems to be my life. :( Excellent.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.