A dark poem of movin', letting, and arranging, holding fear, fracture and survival in view.
February 7, 2004Early Notebooks
That day, movin' on, letting go,
arranging the changes, letting it flow.
The conversation shifted like tides,
carrying whispers where secrets hide.
Passing the passion through endless skies,
a whirl of hope in lovers' eyes.
Spinning words in a dance unknown,
we built a world all of our own.
Changes came, like seasons turn,
the lessons we learned, the fires that burn.
An endless whirl, a fervent plea—
to hold onto dreams, to set them free.
For that day we moved on, we found our way,
navigating the maze of words we'd say.
The passion, the hope, they still remain,
echoes of a love that defied the pain.
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