I wept at the crescendo of the strings my heart full of tears from yesteryear now my soul sings 'Freedom' She whispers, if I can hear it My birthright to claim if I don't fear it 'More' says the mind
What is this business called 'deserve'? It is only the gold we have in reserve a closed chest, rotting in the Earth beneath the shimmering streets of El Dorado
'If only I could open my heart even more to spill more beauty on the page' the poet mistook himself for a man A man? you think wrong How can you separate the singer from the song? the flower from the