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| Fall From Grace by © vision_wolfe When you touch my hand, I fall from Grace There are no Angels to save me. Just the howling of the crying wolves In my mind and at my door- Where does the one begin and the other end- And does it matter? Though I sit here, CD blaring- music touching the smile that's nearly in my eyes- most of me is somewhere else talking with you; finding a sanctuary for the refugees of internal war that my thoughts have become. Is it anyone's fault, or are these casualties just the natural result of the fight for territory in my spirit? Inquiring minds Want to know. Vision Wolf, inspired by Amanda Marshall, and others with great heart |
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