Changes, like unwanted company
Sweeping, like a cold wind blowing
Faces, fading out of memory
Bandages, ripped and soaking
Searching again for a sense of absolution.
Craving for a single ounce of control
And I know, it has to be
And I know, I have to let go
But I am holding on to my shadow
And my shadow follows me
Places, rearranging
Unfamiliar, streets and buildings
Vacancy, a room with dim lighting
Welcoming, all new beginnings
Searching again for a sense of absolution.
Craving for a single ounce of control
And I know, it has to be
And I know, I have to let go
But I am holding on to my shadow
And my shadow follows me
YOU ARE READING
The Atrium
PuisiAs the river of life flows right through, collecting at the delta towards the Atrium of my soul
