The flutter of wings

I've seen his face
I've seen his son...

I wish I could
I wish I could
See his face, to know that he's real...

I've been sings prayers to an empty ceiling for all these years...

The pain and the foolishness of knowing he isn't there burns through my clasped hands sending the smell of burnt hopes and crushed promises of a higher and better place.

I CAN'T POSSIBLY SEE!
...why I'm so alone in this hard-cold world...

The next day I stare down at my feet while the rest stand to pray,
I harshly critisize my ex-god and begin to sob, My dreams were shot
My trust was given...

But I have a maybe feeling strong in the pit of my churning stomach occupied with butterflies, that maybe whn I'm sleeping I'll hear the ever silent brushing of angel wings on my window...

by BrittanyLafoe
posted on 04/01/2008