i want to leave my foot prints on clouds
fade within your deepest breath
melt inside your tightest embrace
fold within your soul and become
roses left to starve
mind games yet to start
i lay on my side of the bed
cold waves of a dying revolution
cradled in wounded arms
who are they to talk,
when we've barely begun?
and the tears fall insistant
claiming history and a sure future
gently falling into your lap
surely you jest
when you say my name
surely it is wrong
when they are right.
there is this road seldom trodden
i want to be that road.