The Journey Is
Her voice is like a river that takes me somewhereIt may be Heaven it may be Hell
But the journey is everything
For I would die just to hear her sing
And live forever with her as well
When Hope feels like a sliver and no one takes care
Perhaps a prayer she says
Is all you need in the dark so close
Feels like a question (mark) which Love may pose
Oh, sometimes the ropes are high and burning
Or dark as night and hidden like traps way below
She comes to me, (without maps)Sunlight in the morning
The day in flight, when all the stars are fallen snow,
Her voice is like a river that takes me somewhere
For I would die just to hear her sing
It may be Heaven it may be Hell
But the journey is everything . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1666 times
Written on 2015-07-15 at 11:30
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