I feel the words before I see them;
They crackle and fall loose between
My ears and my eyes,
Like a strange melody of past goodbyes.
Have Your Voice Be Heard: Become an Odyssey Creator
They filter like sunshine streams
Of pink and gold, echoing in between
The corners of reality and a dark
Distant dream -
That whispers quietly of no life
Beyond falling, but are we brave enough
To try anyway?
No, no bravery does not
Come before the nightmares, it
Lies in the wake of them, screaming
"Continue on" and reminds us
That death does not stalk bones.
Rain can be gentle and rain can be
Wild, but the truth is not found
In the rain.
Because rain or shine the world
Keeps turning in its ever faithful
Theme of not caring about whether
We have lost our souls in the
So sometimes it rains and we
Dance in joy, and sometimes the sun
Mocks our pain.
But let's not blame the weather for the stitches in our hearts.
Wounds can be of more than one nature.
But perhaps the greatest pain of
All is hearing the words and not
Feeling them, slowly seeing the corners
Of your mind turn black, and wondering how it could be possible for the
Word "goodbye" to break all the
Still, maybe we can make it back...?