Wednesday, October 8, 2014

The Passing

Grace takes my hand , another dawn follows me in her sleep 
Still he is not here and the days remain hollow 
The light stands still at the end of the tunnel and all I have is fate and faith 
And a little girls dreams I hold onto with notes crumpled and old . 

I keep them in a safe box beneath my lungs locked away . Waiting for eternity's hoping for his return