| forgotten_lover | ||
| Cheyenne. |
I am the wind that rustles your hair, I am the beast, untame and unfair. I am all seing and all seeing not, Seemingly small, and hard to spot. But I am the storm so true and so rare, I am the pet, broken and bare. I am the blind one, I am unhearing, Horribly big, and so overbearing. You are the land the wind gives into, You are the hunted, just out of veiw. You are the vision, you are the dream, Oh so tall, and skin like cream. But you, the rains that bring on the storm, You, the owner that holds all the warm. You are the blind one, You will discover, That storms become of forgotten lovers. Copyright @ Cheyenne. 2005 |
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