Decisions made in the dark,
Taken back to some childhood park.
We’re still a snowstorm, a blizzard, a disaster, so beautiful,
Still longing for that spark.
Spare me blind anxieties, overthought and over spent,
Off looking for heaven, so hell bent.
Lost somewhere between the rotting elm and the forest floor
The curiousity of a child, youthful love, lasting. True. Pure.
Tell me while you’re out breaking stones looking for jewels,
what is it really you are looking for?
