Waiting

The wounds, under your skin

Shine a light on the fight you can’t win

With your guns and your weapons

To the enemy, you come second.

Try as you might, give it your all

Beaten down, you still stand tall

But that’s enough, the fight is rough,

You can’t win a war just with luck.

And I’m waiting, waiting,

To grant you your wish,

This Christmastime, the candle burns,

It’s held in your hands, the whole world turns.

If I could cast a miracle,

I’d give you all you ask

This winter night

In the light that you bask

I’d give you everything

And all the rest

But here I stand, empty now,

Useless and hopeless.

In the hollows of the waking day,

I’m the love that you need

And here we pray

Yet the wreath is laid.

Here you are, the seasons are wild,

Let them face your inner child.

Stubborn and strong, you won’t give up

Steadfast heart, you hold onto love.

With the wake of the day, you face the storm

Cold and dark, yet your heart’s still warm

Chasing the wind, chase it away

Moving on to see the next day.

And I’m waiting, waiting,

To grant you your wish,

This Christmastime, the candle burns,

It’s held in your hands, the whole world turns.

If I could cast a miracle,

I’d give you all you ask

This winter night

In the light that you bask

I’d give you everything

And all the rest

But here I stand, empty now,

Useless and hopeless.

In the hollows of the waking day,

I’m the love that you need

And here we pray

Yet the wreath is laid.

I hold up my hands

I know I’ve done all that I can.

There’s not much more left to say

Except I hope to say that you’ll be back soon,

Back to me one day.

If I could cast a miracle,

I’d give you all you ask

This winter night

In the light that you bask

I’d give you everything

And all the rest

But here I stand, empty now,

Useless and hopeless.

In the hollows of the waking day,

I’m the love that you need

And here we pray

Yet the wreath is laid.

The Fallen Old Log

He sits ready on the fallen old log
Awaiting a tale of high mystery
Found in the depths of a mind cloaked in fog,
A story reshaped all through history.
The man recalls about his long-lost love
Hiding under a different - fresh - name
Yet it never gets old. A soaring dove
Circles above, a gift of peace, a flame
Of new hope. A love reborn forever
And not aging. Unlike this sage, who speaks
Of what is lost, holds tight as a tether
When he must let go, must change what he seeks.

His love is a memory, gold indeed;
What is so precious is not what he needs.