Shake the winter’s branches
Gather up the bitter harvest
Always out of sight, but not of mind
Fears and doubts forgotten you will find
And all you grasp with slip through your fingers soon
The snare you’ve cast will tangle the hopes you’ve sewn
Lock the door close the blinds seal your thoughts draw your lines
Before the sunlight burns your eyes
Gather up the bitter harvest
Always out of sight, but not of mind
Fears and doubts forgotten you will find
And all you grasp with slip through your fingers soon
The snare you’ve cast will tangle the hopes you’ve sewn
Lock the door close the blinds seal your thoughts draw your lines
Before the sunlight burns your eyes
( Novemthree )
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