Song of the Heart
Your heart is a songbook, Bound together with time alone. The parchment is stained with a life time of experience And you sing melodies a pure as a snowy winter morning. But you sing to a different tune And your lyrics are not clear, What is it that you sing of? I am eager to hear. If I could I would read you, I would, But you keep yourself hidden and obscured By walls and bars of the coldest steel. What is it that you cry for? I am dying to know. If I could hear you, I would dance the same dance, I would march to the same beat. But you are stuck in your cage, and I on the outside. What magic is your lifes song made of? Could I be your dancer? Or how about your abracadabra? What must I do to set you free? The rhymes chanted to free your magical aura, I would chant them untill I have no more breath. The exotic strides and bounds of your dance, I will learn them even if it takes a life time. What ever you are missing I will find it. Who ever you are seeking I will find them. I am here, sing to me and you will not only be heard, You will be undestood to no end.