I just cannot be the moon that grows trees.
The light that shows the animals the way.
The day has come for me to walk, and I just want to run.
I know this is not correct, but there is nothing else.
The tress no longer bring fruit.
The stars no longer make me sing.
This is the only way this could be.
You will never know the struggle of me.
The list is long, and the pen has run out of ink.
The road is calling me, and this time I am going to take that train.
Standing in the middle not knowing which way to turn.
If I go left, I lose the things that brings me life.
If I go right, I stand in the doorway of my dreams.
If I stand in the middle, then everything will be the same.
The trees will not move, and the wind would not make a whisper.
As the river sails on by, the trail has no ending.
The jungle is full of wonder, and you do not want to be a wonder.
You are still not here.
I keep looking just hoping to hear your voice.
A sound that is so familiar that even the birds start to sing.
Just to hear your breath as it makes the house alive once again.
Thinking about the time when the moon would cry, and you said it was a sign.
You never said what kind, and my mind never thought to ask.
Then it hits me that I am living in a fantasy.
This is not wonderland.
This is real life and I now heart is slowing drowning from the pain.
A pain that will live with me until my dying days.
What have I done to you?
What did I do to hurt you?
Why are you mad?
Why are you leaving me?
Look at what you have done to me.
These are the questions that run through my mind as I watch you sink lower and lower.
I will never be able to hear the answers.
Yet I will still have questions.
As you are slowly disappearing so are the dreams I want to tell.
The story has finally end, and I am starting to see the end.
It is starting to feel true to me.
I still do not believe that this is true.