The first sight
Gray skies high above
She was sitting without love
Feeling cold without care
The only moving thing was her hair
The tree stands toward the skies
She rests below with her cries
I step forward to see her Grace
Trying to read the words on her face
Watching her eyes caused me pain
But this pain never comes in vain
I lend my hand to dry her tear
And it feels something so dear
I see the birds so high above
Their songs sing the fable of love
03 Mar 2006, 1:43 pm
