Overwhelmed by the faint nothingness that sits in the silence of this day;
what am I to do than to think about love.
Our humane facets bring us together for a reason of survival and yet,
what is it that makes one fall in love?
What makes one say such things…
what makes one hold back even more?
How can one reply to a lost love never forgotten?
And what is the other to do?
I was never good at such things.
Maybe it’s why I write.
Is this the only place I can find my words?
Hidden deep in the sorrows of my past and longing for dramatic action;
why do they come so easily when something aches inside?
But what is it?
The wanting of a fantasy?
A story so good to write that I just can’t happen to put down the pen or take my hands from the keys it’s pure—ecstasy.
Tell me something my heart has been longing to hear and I promise you you’ll have my script in a week!
Only a few things can do this to me;
Love, it always has been. In every way.
The things I pray to rid me of, tell me;
will my words be gone too?
I also look for God in times like those. I never found her either.
Things like that make me wonder if she’s there sometimes..
Especially when things like that happen..
On days like this, I find the words something within me had been looking for.
And now that I’ve found them,
they’re not as good as Yours.
And I only pray for You.
Show me Love is real;
and that You exist.
I’m buried in a essence that’s sometimes hard to see.
And even I can’t show others the light.
Will I ever know Truth?