"Words scribbled on the underside of an old envelope, becoming everything inside. Ink spilled on paper, but in a deeper sense, several sentences blurred by tears re presented more sentiment, more that was meaningful and real, then the years that led to this crossroads. I heard the door close-not slamming, but slinking shut in an unfortunate and unhappy desire to be undetected, as if secrecy could lesson the pain. Sometimes our lives descend, in snaredas storms upon the soul and rains may strike dividing to sever what was whole, but though your limbs feel torn and twisted and your memories turn cold, take heart, for I am with you still and will catch you should you fall. Eyes to Heaven Lost and searching for the truth. The words to mend your broken heart can only come from you. Eyes to Heaven, building secrets from your pain, a virtue lost in innocence is lost here all the same, a beautiful dreamer locked in reticence, in a tower of your soul, what lies so deep and undisturbed, fears torment in the world, lightning flashes, warning, to whispers in the rain, the fire climbing upwards your fortress lies in flame, just pray you do the right thing. Eyes to Heaven. Lost and searching for the truth. The words to mend your broken heart, can only come from you. Eyes to Heaven, building secrets from your pain, in prayers to end the suffering, heard by a soldier's saint. Eyes to Heaven. Lost and searching for the truth. I am lost, and I'm falling. Eyes to Heaven and I'm falling. Just pray you do the right thing
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