The Bed I Have Made
From deep within the depths of my soul
I conjure the spirit of passion
Trembling from the loss of control
Angered by what I have done
Hoping only for the light of belonging
I suffer, desperate and alone
With no one, and nothing
Wanting a love of my own
How long before I wither away
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
A mountain of things to say
Moving on a definite must
Yet...still I am weary and afraid
Still in need of a loving touch
I will ly in the bed I have made
And dream of the I miss so much.
I conjure the spirit of passion
Trembling from the loss of control
Angered by what I have done
Hoping only for the light of belonging
I suffer, desperate and alone
With no one, and nothing
Wanting a love of my own
How long before I wither away
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
A mountain of things to say
Moving on a definite must
Yet...still I am weary and afraid
Still in need of a loving touch
I will ly in the bed I have made
And dream of the I miss so much.
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