Slow I move from intake worker to adoptions... in a few more days. Its bitter sweet. I hated what I did yet am thankful it was always me who made the decisions to do it. youtube/watch?v=Kv113p2rVTk Oh how sadly sound the songs the queen must sing of dying A prisoner upon her throne of melancholy sighing If she could see her mirror now She would be free of those who bow and Scrape the ground before her feet Silently she walks among her dying midnight roses Watches as each moment goes that never really know us And so it seems she doesnt care If she has dreams of no one there Within the shadows of her room But all my frozen words agree, and say its time to Call back, all the birds I sent to Fly behind her castle walls, and Im Weary of the nights Ive seen Inside these empty halls Wooden lady turn and turn among my weary secrets And wave within the hours past and other empty pockets Maybe weve found what we have lost When weve unwound so many crossed entangling Misunderstandings; but All my frozen words agree and say its time to Call back all the birds I sent to Fly behind her castle walls, and Im Weary of the nights Ive seen Inside these empty walls
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 03:30:05 +0000
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