I predict the seasons

I predict the seasons,

to go unchanged….

And I predict the reasons,

To draw whispers rearranged:

“hold on dear life…

don’t go off running

I’ll make a home

through loving you”.

And nobody’s worrying

when the hopes fly high

and nobody’s worrying

when the stars begin to cry..

That is why you become…

my life, my breath, my every wish

Spirits to undo the leash

the cement holding on your soul

Glasses counted

and losing control…

This is why you become

My father, my son, my love

Stripping light from the above

The one whose kindness

Leaves behind

Not words, or sounds, or even days

the one whom humbled grace betrays…

So, I predict the sun

To follow steps of man..

Who took the leap to swiftly shun

All time outside the present plan!

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