Am I sick? Or,
Is she a cure?
New perspective to old thoughts,
She’s the rain to areas of my mind suffering from droughts.
Impaired vision, I was walking a thin line,
She became a guiding light, her hand intertwined with mine.
But darkness comes too soon and it’s time to go.
No matter how hard I try, time won’t slow.
The path’s coming to an inevitable end.
Cracks are appearing, is there a way to mend?
We continue forward for now,
But our feet are beginning to become as heavy as led.
In ‘waiting on the lights to change’
You’ve got to wonder if the change will simply be a fullstop,