The Bandit
Memories pass by like paper boats in a stream.
My fever has never broken, and I never dream.
I shake with disdain for the bandit that stole her away.
I stumble in the dark, bumping into relics of better days.
Living is a distraction, and joy is a lie.
The bandit took my love to heaven, and left me to die.
1 comment:
As you said on Saturday, March, 8 We will set sail on this chaotic ocean that we call life, however we will set sail with a new vessel. We will let the lord who is our captain sail for us. He not only made the vessel but he also made the ocean upon which the vessel will sail, and when the storm comes, we will know that he can also calm the wind that drives the storm because he is the lord of all creation. The bandit can sink paper boats, but he has no power over a vessel of the LORD.
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