Traces

I haven’t the time, but somehow I make it
Its a flexible line, and sometime I break it

Stuck on my mind, so hard to shake it
So gentle and kind, simply can’t take it

Through emotion’s swirling fog
in passion’s heated mist
Traces of the soul of love
struggle to exist

Lonely nights edge, slice through my senses
driving a wedge, leaves me defenseless
narrows the ledge, of nervous intenseness
broken heart’s pledge, firm and relentless

while empty dreams still fade
my hardened heart insists
Traces of the soul of love
struggle to exist

 

November 24th 1984

Comments are closed.