The Death of Love
I've walked into this field alone,
A field that has no end.
A walk of life one could say,
With wounds that will not mend.
I walk across this field of dirt,
A field no longer green.
Dead now is the grass that grew,
And no flowers I have seen.
The birds no longer sing above,
No water in the stream.
No sweetness in the air I smell,
I fear I've lost my dream.
No stars to shine to light the night,
Or a moon to fill the void.
No bright lit sun to calm the storm,
My life just seems destroyed.
Acceptance now I bow my head,
As death will bring rebirth.
Returning now from which I came,
As dust upon the earth.
There are two kinds of pedestrians...the quick and the dead. Drive it like you stole it.