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I hope the exit is joyful and I hope never to return." Frida Kahlo
;void(0)) Norwegian Rain He pulls in their driveway with a broken tail light He grabs his jacket and he yawns just like He always does when he's coming home Feeling like the hell in a fiery pit Of a life broken He's never told her this He picks up a bouquet of yellow and reds Walks past the dog and pats his heads Inside he's steady, cause he getting ready, To give her a bouquet of a dozen roses (Chorus 1) With a diamond bracelet wrapped around it, "Maybe I'm not so broken; maybe I'm the only man she loves" She's sipping Kahlua; she's smoking again While sitting at the table - they’re her suppertime friends He walks into the door with a smile on his face She feels his mood and her heart is torn He's still so distant She couldn't miss it He hands her the bouquet and says,” I love you, babe" Inside she's dying cause so afraid He doesn't know her; but he's trying to show her (Chorus two) "I don't need roses, I don't want diamonds Give me rivers; show me flowers... in the wild. Let me drift in their sleepless eyes I'm getting older And roses and diamonds whisper death To me … Wrapped inside a fantasy “I was born in the wintry Norwegian rain I walked into your eyes, not the money in your name You showered me with diamonds Diamonds and roses” "Thanks, but no thanks" she says as she walks away I know you're trying but don’t bury me this way I fear night and fear the cost Of life with distractions and a mission lost In field of empty causes I need streams and dreams I need emotion Yeah there is sacrifice, If we want the best in life" "All I really need Is just a shower of proof That there's laughter in rain And love in the pain A guard of my heart and a showering mist of emotion ... It’s such a small token When you cherish someone the way I've cherished you... Why couldn't you cherish me, too?" With shaking hands, he tilts his head "Do watcha gotta do; let me leave instead I brought you roses; don't rub my nose in it Telling me you told me so Laughing while you're letting me go Yeah, I'm better alone I'll keep the diamonds, the diamonds and roses For someone who appreciates it" (Chorus three) Diamonds and roses Two hearts broken In a bouquet of yellow and reds And sleepless eyes inside a story that always ends It’s a painful death But it’s the only one they get He pulls out of the driveway with a broken tail light He left his jacket with the diamonds inside He left the roses Hoping she notices His broken life inside the mountains where her Norwegian heart reigns; His broken life and the dark side of his name In diamonds, diamonds and roses. Written by theresa smith halfacre September 29th, 2005, 4:39 p.m.  ;void(0)) Outside Illusions We tremble in dreams Believing in some sort of rainbow We follow what seems The answers to our prayers But if we stop to listen Just what will we hear? Temptation all around us, Reality seeped in fear… And who really loves you When the end is near? We dance in the night Believing in some sort of magic We kiss songs good night Then put them away ‘til the next time If we stop to listen, What does the song say? Does it say “I love you?” Or, “I must go away”? And who really knows, And who really cares? In the end we’re left with the tears A promise we’ll see better years. We wake in sun Believing that sunshine will calm us We step out the door Raindrops fall from the porch We step into the feeling We love the way it plays Softly rolling on our skin It’s sunshine wrapped in a dream But who will believe Those raindrops are not a burden? They’re joy from within A storm blowing through us again It’s laced with love and laughter And placed inside for ever after It’s not just a dream It’s not just a moment’s thunder It’s what you believe It’s wonder and wonderful And love never ends It’s more than magic and dreaming It’s weaving a plan When we feel we’re at the end And when we don’t know the reason, We need something to believe in … Believe in… The tremble in dreams The dance in the night The walk in the sun The wrapping up in raindrops Then sadness will wash away It’s just imagination That makes us turn away But hold to the dream and believe And the dream will believe in you All it takes is the illusion to make your dream come true. theresas smith halfacre, august 21, 2005, 6:49 p.m. Thinking of Kennon  What Have We Become? I have walked the desert Falling in the sand Choking in the heat of time Blooming in a clouded mind I dance in the fury I hide in the fear I live in the worries Of every single year CHORUS What have we become? Traveling lands of such extremes Hot by day and cool by night Exploring newer dreams I believed a colored rainbow Would always see us through But the color of denial Leaves me cold and far from you Cold and far from you Years we have wasted Meet an irreplaceable end Lost in the moment It’s so easy to pretend That all the lies you told me Brought this journey to an end While a desert abandons all it traps In a sun that never sets What have we done? Walking in the rain My dreams were in a cradle Rocking all alone again Sadness shocks me in my sleep It’s early morning once again I never would have walked away Had you only been my friend Had you only been my friend What have we become? Will I ever be the same? We’ll never be together Or play these foolish games Still my lies need your bitterness They’re calling out your my name My lies need your bitterness To share some of the blame What I have become; Will I ever be the same? The truth is I just don’t know How to live with all this pain. Written by theresa smith halfacre, June 22, 2005, 11:19 p.m. ;void(0)) Layers of Life Layers of life fall to the floor Swept under carpets and broken screen doors Like dust in the desert and dreams of desire Layers upon layers surround me like fire Memories resurface, piece by piece Mostly in quiet refuge, I process my grief The mind will protect every dream ever lost Frightened and alienated, we suffer the cost Never in my life would I believe I would break my vow to God. I have searched for you in my sins and creations I have struggled through every lawful temptation Ouestioning every damaging thought Sickness and contemplation were the answers I got. One more layer dresses the floor It weaves my mistakes into one hundred more Confused and bewildered I stay in my shell Looking like heaven, but dreaming of hell. You never broke your vow to God or silence. For a lifetime I accepted rejection with a smile Understanding complacent lives firsthand in denial Standing seconds away from one who protects Others will benefit from my loss and neglect I’ll never again believe in fairytales Like layers of life, they slip into failures Remind me again sometime why I’m foolish And I’ll remind you again that I’m not what I wished … Or hoped I could be in your heart. This grief is ours to share equally. Finally, we are united forever in what we have broken. Written by theresa smith halfacre, april 29th, 6:17 p.m. An Angel For Mom When you wake she sits in your sunrise When you travel she stands along cotton fields When you look to the sky she gazes back from willow trees When you're sad she gathers buttercups and rainbow butterflies, And scatters your worries in crystal lakes where they become miracles. when you sleep she cuddles you in yellow roses and whispers your name to God. theresa smith halfacre, may 16, 2001 ### An Angel For My Aunt When you are lonely, she brings you companionship. When you feel pain, she brings you a gentle hand to hold. When your dreams are uncertain, she brings you the bread of life. When you feel quiet, she brings you the song of the white-throated sparrow, And spills her loveliness into an everlasting ribbon of hope. She only drifts from your side for uncommon occasions -- To re-color every flower when you fear imagination. She is your carriage. She is your self-control. She is the mirror of generosity. She is the angel who speaks your name softly to God, and seals your life with His kiss. Written by theresa smith halfacre, March 25, 2005, 1:46 a.m.  Nicholas Road It was his last supper and my last song One more reason to walk along The dusty curves that wind their way To a memory on that old highway There’s a sparkle of sadness and a miracle of life In this story of Nicholas Road I can hear his voice clearly as he giggles a little scream “Spaghetti please, spaghetti please No sauce, no sauce, just parmesan cheese” Smiling through that freckled face His green eyes they lit up this place Just before it became Nicholas Road (Chorus) Nicholas Road Nicholas Road I can still hear the sounds on Nicholas Road Nicholas Road Nicholas Road He was seven years old that day on Nicholas Road Toy soldiers in his left hand and peace his right Riding in the back seat, the Calvary didn’t fight The Indians or any man, why should they hate? In this life we’re all one, we must cooperate We must cooperate if we’re ever to believe In the lives Nicholas saved unknowingly That day on Nicholas Road He was a little Robin Hood A miracle of life A just communicator who taught us wrong from right No one could imagine the gunshots that day A fallen hero and a mighty lad Taken in a foreign land Taken but not forgotten, his heart still beats on... On Nicholas Road. (chorus) Every time the wind blows I hear his voice and kiss the face of Nicholas. Written by theresa smith halfacre, April 30, 2005, 5:30 p.m.  His Dream He said, “I have a dream” It’s about equality for every human being Men and women everywhere Hear my labored prayer Intolerance has a consequence In God’s eye’s, we’re all significant And free…(free, we have to believe in the dream…) The path he chose in life To change the world through sacrifice Inviting every child of man To believe and understand His witness to the world And make our hearts more pure And free …(and free, we have to believe in the dream) Living for justice That’s what love is He challenged a nation To free racism What’s the price we pay When we pull ourselves away From the dream, his dream, The dream for which he died? One man spoke God’s words As he walked in a daring search Of what we need from birth The dream of our self worth Don’t pull yourself away Pain is the price we pay When we turn ourselves away From the dream, his dream, The dream for which he died. Written by theresa smith halfacre, May 7, 2005, 11:02 a.m. Unforgiving There’s a woman who sleeps without dreaming There’s a woman who dreams without sleep What should they do when the night is through? There’s a woman without you. They keep on dancing cause love never ends Yeah, they're still laughing in lies and pretend But there are dreams and there is sleep They wonder when the two will meet … If ever. There’s a man who gives without taking There’s a man who takes but doesn’t give What should they do when the night is through? There’s a man without you. They're praying and praying ‘cause love never ends And they're living and dying in lies and pretend But someone gives and someone takes They wonder what they must forsake... If ever. There’s a child who is crying in stillness There’s a child whose stillness is tears What should they do when the bruising is through? There’s a child looking for you. And we’re all the same in this little game This game of unforgiving We sacrifice the best in life just to make it, just to make it Bend the oak but don’t break it, no don’t break it Fake it little fool, fake it. Life is everything no one told you about, And you’re nothing with everyone else If we don’t help each other make it. Let the woman sleep Let the man pray Let the child cry ‘til he mends his breaks Take the battle ground from our backyards ‘Cause we’re better than this, we’re strong, we’re free We can walk right out of poverty If there’s you, there’s her, there’s him and me If there’s God, then there’s life, the hell with them We’ve got to start believing in unforgiving Or we’ll never make it. Written by theresa smith halfacre, June 12, 2002, 2:40 a.m.  Final Sunset How I wish you were in love with me You use to love so easily The way you’d hold my hand and stroke my face We would walk down to the small café And I would softly say your name Over and over again in my mind I wonder what’s become of us Now I’m just a shell of what I used to be Time has slipped away from us Years they’ve passed, my feelings have gone And all the gods they stare down at me And laugh aloud so cheerfully What’s become of us, why should they care? We’re one less broken soul for them to fear There’s a man in the window looking at me His eyes tells me he’s lonely His white hair hangs far below his face I swear I overheard him say To the picture on the windowsill “How I wish you would come back to me, You walked away so easily Life, just like feelings come and go All those memories mean so much to me I hold you close and make believe Safe beneath my chest, you’re in my arms Won’t you please, please come back to me? We can love if you would just believe But then again, I don’t even believe myself. And all the gods they laugh so cheerfully I wonder what it is they see A frail old man who’ll die alone and scared What’s become of us, why should I even care?” There was a baby in the middle room I remember looking out to her Little baby you left home way too soon Your eyes they closed, then mine did, too I never thought I’d lose you A minute without breath, then you were gone All my hopes have turned towards the dirt My God what’s left here on this earth? I’m just a shell, there’s nothing left for me I look down and kiss broken wings My little baby girl and me I’ll meet you there in heaven in just an hour The gods are laughing in your dust They’ve taken you away from us You’ve fallen; you’re nowhere near And left me in this world alone again. I thought you would have been a better friend. Oh my God what has become of me? I’ll never know, my dreams they shattered distant in the ground And every branch that’s staring back at me Is broken and afraid of me They push into my thoughts and hold me down I know the gods who laugh so easily They know my thoughts, they trust my fear They know that I’m right here And I’m never, ever really going home ‘Cause I can’t wait another day alone All the world has gone away I’m sure that there’s a better day Right now’s “better” is too far away. Lives - just like feelings - come and go And the gods, they’re the only one’s who care. I know cause they’re the only one’s who’s there. “How I wish you would come back to me My child, you slipped so easily I look in fear that you never will be found I never stop calling out your name Or fight the gods and their wicked game All in the name of human gain For souls to live inside their brain The nightmares will stop I promise you They’re just dreams that won’t come true Let them go and give them all to me I promise once you do You’ll see you’re home in heaven And everyone’s waiting here for you You died a long, long time ago Feelings, just like life, come and go Let them go and come into your home I promise you will never be alone.” Written by theresa smith halfacre, March 21, 2005, 10:25 p.m. Crippled Dandelions Silent days carry me from moment to moment Like the continuing chime of unforgotten spoken words. I piece time together under a veil of blue while picking crippled dandelions. Surrounded by water they thrive alongside wilted memories that weave between my fingertips, floating within heaven and bordering hell. Thin layers of crystal shelter them, just as the skin protects emotions that seep inside. Soft-spoken words and crippled dandelions meet in the middle, and somehow become A beautiful centerpiece on my breakfast table. Written by theresa smith halfacre, april 4, 2000, 1:37 a.m. ;void(0)) One Day One day one prayer will touch the world God will listen and not wonder what he heard Fallen heroes everywhere, severed in the ground No one ever notices, they’re faceless in a crowd Disposable and dying in the lost and found. One day one prayer will touch one little girl Standing in the prowl of her sacred little world Bruises blacken up her back, following the attack No one ever notices because she’s black Close your eyes and just forget, just forget One day one prayer will touch the enemy And those we think we care about the least Their face is different but their eyes still shine No one notices it is we who divide The history that ultimately unites us in one vine One day one prayer will touch every ailing man Who seeks shelter for his family and food for friends He is weak physically, but I promise you he believes No one notices while he’s praying on his knees “Dear God, please protect us with your mercy.” One day one prayer will touch Mother Earth And restore what we destroy, it has no worth The animals are weak, we made them so We lock them up and kill their souls In a canned hunt and victory show One day one prayer will touch this heart Healing fears that keep my eyes apart Playing in the playground, dancing as I please One day no one will notice me One day isn’t soon enough for me. Written by theresa smith halfacre, May 1, 2005, 10:02 p.m. Mixed Bliss Clusters of voices suck us into Deafness while outstretched arms Rise and fall like imitations of Birth and death that live In The Continuum. Who will bless the losers who drink God’s Mercy in one end, And piss it out the other? While darkness breaks through light, And raindrops whisper laughter, The sunlight screams in chaos. We adorn ourselves in robes To cover sin, While bliss tries to decipher whose blood It is that sends mixed messages. The flesh on our skeleton seems to reveal The truth through the face of a mime. Truly, I wonder what brought us to this place, Apart from Christ and The Fallen? I lose grace and am weak with fear, For I know midnight waits on neither the Bride nor groom Who only take root In the needles of a Carolina Pine. Heaven and Hell reconcile in our minds. Welcome to life as we know it, live it, And prefer it. theresa smith halfacre, October 10, 1999 ;void(0)) The River He walked down to the river He couldn’t get away The nightmares kept on following him Day after day And there in the river He washed them all away Washed all of his memories Into another day She walked down to the river She couldn’t find a way His promises kept following her Day after day And there in the river She washed them away Washed away the promises He gave her that day Chorus I’ll love you until I die I’ll love you until I die For the rest of my life, I’ll love you until I die Dreams in the river Nightmares left their side Swallowed in the waters flow They left them far behind And there in the river Understanding runs free For two young lovers Who never came to be Their love is known to no other man Nor, bride to be Kingdoms and far away lands Hear them call perpetually Chorus Written by theresa smith halfacre, May 3, 2005, 2:43 a.m. Self Image Evenly balanced in bitterness Unbeliefs remain uncertain of their ability To live in broken pride Striving for independence Away from criticisms and judgments And pressures of other minds I step in a willow of shyness And self pity slowly dies Jealousy is nowhere Only sadness in my faults Wandering in what interests me I fall ten steps behind Trying to gain acceptance And finding it nowhere Except in excuses Hiding another hostile lie Fear of betrayal and nights of decay Wrap around my sighs I’ve taken for granted my life as a wife And avoid uneasiness tonight A conflict, a convict, a memory splits Elsewhere and unknown A common suspicion; I think I should listen Instead, I speak in rhymes Guilt touches my inner thigh And isolation stands inside Fear of failure and love of pleasure Never do I hide my humiliation from Christ I simply stand at his feet Mourning in inferiority and disbelief That He might still love me And all of my disappointments Sometimes intense but more often dense My self-image steps aside Elsewhere I travel and quickly unravel In hopelessness and beaten cries Seeking to please; my motives seem real Though unattainable by pressures of life My heart will stop beating one last time And leave me far behind Falsehoods surround me everywhere I feel it happening all over again Stubborn and subtle I choke inside A punishment easily justified A wrong situation in a dual mind I cripple myself for life A signature makes me a widow While a lover quickly recognizes How very small am I. How very close am I To nothing. Written by theresa smith halfacre, June 20, 2005, 2:27 a.m. ;void(0)) What Becomes of a Woman? What becomes of a woman when morning no longer awakes in a gentle sunrise? What becomes of a woman when she borders heaven and hell, and cannot see which one dances in violins, and which one dances in fire? It can become a winding dance. What becomes of a woman when one hand collapses as the other guards the soul? What becomes of a woman when she borders reality and dreams, and cannot see which one is forever, and which one lingers in the abstract? She sees life as an enemy from which she cannot escape. What becomes of a woman when she becomes common? What becomes of a woman when Little Explorers drown in twin springs that never tasted life across water? Lifeless bodies with little hands reach beyond dirt, but never does she hold them. What becomes of a woman when falling in love and going home become one untouchable beauty? Everything she loves naturally ... All of her laughter, All of her joy, All of her tears, All of her fears, gather in a world she cannot follow. Ultimately, the journey must end within a society that refuses to travel into an unexamined wilderness. She said no to him when he promised log cabins and swing sets. When he was certain of life, she hesitated in moments. Caught in her reality and commitments, he left her with the promise that he would love her in darkness and light forever, and life would be good to both of them. What becomes of a woman? What becomes of a woman? I guess I’ll never know. written by theresa smith halfacre, march 23, 2000, 1:34 a.m. World Apart It’s one more winter and one more song One more reason to walk along A forest without trees Bare branches meet curiosity On the other side of me There’s a canopy of memories I cannot grasp their meanings Let them settle in my corner world Never to disturb the sacred unheard Or touch the other side of me Chorus It’s one more late night winter One more broken heart One more feeling the grass is greener In a world apart I’m out of time and I’m out of prayers I’m out of breath and I’m scared to death Watching life from my side, in a world apart There’s a melody awaiting me, impassable and still An hour ago it haunted me from a windowsill Endless blackness, endless night, feathers of a bird Fall away, let the sun eclipse every smile and hurt Lost and trapped in dreams not facts Nothing ever merges; it dangles from words That I never heard On the other side me. Written by theresa smith halfacre, March 13 3:35 Lost Voices from multiple shadows speak to me, while the flesh of the moon falls from the sky. The light of The Son settles on the harlot who hides under eyes of scrutiny. Wresting with the shadows, she screams hollow thoughts from empty, benevolent strangers. Discussions burst into silence. written by theresa smith halfacre, 2/18/00, 12:32 P.M.!!!!! ;void(0)) Falling Down Someone told me you followed your dream And became everything they wanted you to be A scented notepad in your left hand And the writings on the wall You kept his picture in your locket To make you swear that you’re never going home Chorus And the roses, they need water As their petals fall to the ground And a heart breaks like a daughter Who’s longing for a love never found You’ve been teaching common knowledge But there’s nothing common about hell Right or wrong you’re still falling down Beaten in a common battleground No one knows anything in this town Next door neighbors, yeah they're never to be found There’s inspiration in a whisper When the average talk can’t be heard Red rose vases in the bedroom Arranged by a hand that never learns He comes walking in the back door Yeah, well who said opposites attract Too soon tomorrow you’re face shaded In the colors of the petals on the ground Someone told me you followed your dream And you’re everything you want to be You’ve got your life and your perfect family Tell me why then, did you swear then, that you were never going home? What did he promise this time around? Broken dreams don’t have to break you down A dime a dozen are falling to the ground. Written by theresa smith halfacre, March 15, 2005, 12:13 a.m.  Hotel Belmont 25 All night driving on for hours Hotel Belmont 25 Headlights breaking down my powers Love fails and I never really know Why he has my heart And let me go Hotel Belmont 25 It was the last time we said goodbye Daydreams, thinking of a lifetime Two cents It’s more than money in my mind When you’re receiving end of unkind False eyes Don’t count on another “next time” Hotel Belmont 25 It’s just of memory Another story left behind I’m not sure why I feel this way A little a crazy, a little shame Forget this life and forget my name In one more empty track of pain What words called for this absurdity? Full moon Fades away with disloyalty My one trust My one friend in the walls of my sky You walked away When I pulled out of sight From Hotel Belmont 25 I’m not sure why I cannot go back Last glance, another cruel attack Someone rained on my parade Full moon; guides me back into insane You crushed my dreams and threw away All the magic from inside The spiritual ghosts that you hide From the second story of Hotel Belmont 25 Full moon and Hotel Belmont 25 You are my enemy for life I’ll forget your light and the sign That read “Hotel Belmont 25” Written by theresa s. halfacre, July 21, 2005, 4:22 p.m. Today and Tomorrow I dress in black With a diamond cross necklace Prepared for anything And ready for nothing The day was fine And things look good So, what shall I do with today? I walk down the stairway My face towards the door I catch my reflection uniting With the heartpine floor. My heart it beats a little reckless And my thoughts … a little restless. Awakening from my slumber Once again, I begin to wonder What shall I do with today? Chorus What should I do with tomorrow? Where shall I lay your name? In the crevices of sorrow I crawl inside my pain. There I find a safe harbor And there’s peace on earth And brotherhood and goodwill And though I don’t know what to do with tomorrow I know what to do with today. Things look pretty good today I can fake and pretend and make life real again It doesn’t matter how I really feel. I toss back my hair and rock in chair I tune in to CNN and watch the war in Afghanistan Blood and guts and war and death. I begin to feel at home. Written by theresa smith halfacre, November 21, 2001, 12:52 a.m.. ;void(0))
Sweet Dreams She sees the daylight come to end Pulls the shades down again Turning thoughts inside her head God, will she ever be the same again? Learning more of consequence Afternoons and nights progress Her body’s telling her to rest Walk away from emptiness Looking just beyond his eyes She was somehow hypnotized Close the night and close the door Sweet dreams are sweet no more Years ago she use to pray Now her prayers have walked away From the child inside the dress A child so young and innocent She never hurried from the night Felt his hands; knew it wasn’t right God what was she to say? Broken shadows lit her way Free the dream and free the child Let the lanterns calm the wild History is history (2) He is dead and dead is she He still her kisses goodnight And he’ll never leave her side Good night (2) Good night sweet dreams, good night Written by theresa s. halfacre June 25th, 2005 sometime after midnight Writing in the Rain I am writing in the rain, I am whispering your name. I am dancing ‘neath the stars, Under heaven’s golden glow. As you love me from afar I daze in skylights with butterflies. Colors gaze back in sweet array, And I find my nesting place. Chorus I am going to believe That Christ has captured all our sins He has taken them away He has covered them with Him His eyes have filled with tears, His scars begin to bleed While all our answers lie in Him All our lives begin again I am going to believe What promise do you need? What stories must I share? If I am to die with you, Will you write me in the rain? Will you find my face in clouds? Will you cover me with wings? Will you trace your life with mine? Will I ever share your name? Chorus If we write songs in the rain, If we whisper each others name, Then all the blood will run into A river that doesn’t end in the tragedy of time Known only to Poe and Lee. I am going to believe. Written by theresa smith halfacre, June 6th 12:07 a.m. The Difference The broken earth unlocks a crematorium to the classical existence of my souls. alternative losses meet face to face like wind that kicks the back of my knees ... I twirl, and twirl, beckoning inside a cyclone of passages, waiting for the arrival of One Moment. I refrain from letting sorrow close on mortality, as lament hymns march with silent horses. Surrounded in dangerous threats fabricated by my mind, I encounter heaven’s compromises rescuing my emotions. As northern lights shine on confusion, I risk my thoughts to modern medicine, just so I may live in peace, and never know the difference. written by theresa smith halfacre, April 3, 2000, 12:36 a.m. ;void(0)) Dark Night You’re like water flowing in a stream Blue and full of life and dreams Travel quietly; let my world run through My darkest night and into you You’re green and jaded like a flower garden My sins, you say, need no pardon I walk in your pain, this is my choice In the darkest night, to hear your voice Dark night fly away Bury wounds on golden shores All is lost if nothing’s gained Bury us and leave the pain It’s so insensitive Fallen birds like fallen trees Take to flight when they believe Music flees to remember me In the darkest nights it’s sheltering Child so small and man so great Why do you make words from hate? We’re center stage in make believe Instantly you seal my fate. Dark night fly away Bury wounds on golden shores All is lost when nothing’s gained Take us whole; leave the pain It’s so insensitive Fight the fallen angry foes Needless villains with bullet holes What has temptation done to them? We destroy the fabric that lies within A kindred soul. Dark night fly into me Knock me down to set me free With discovery comes victory Small wonders in a desert glow Flowing in a jaded stream Hollow, bruised and beaten Transparent like insanity I am more than tired. Written by theresa smith halfacre, March 31, 2005, 12:03 a.m. Theresa | Munson | Audio Clips | Newberry Monuments | Writings in the Rain | More Writings in the Rain | The Unnofficial Half | Links | Contact Us | |
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