A pen and paper haven't been hard to find.
The words I search for though haven't been kind!
The past maybe I too often looked at,
The future may never really be fact.
The age old wisdom ringing tonight I sleep,
The road may be long, the climb too steep.
As long as I have you to hold,
Somewhere to be when I feel cold,
I care not for the what the future may be
While the past's something I refuse to see.
With demons that were or will be.
The knight that battles, a fool is he.
'cause how does it matter what life really meant
As long as the tense of your joy is present.
you never had difficulty finding words, but this time they have been exceptionally kind to you it seems. Interesting read!
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