Sunny Days.
When God casts his angels above my surroundings, I can feel them. One sings in harmony while the other whispers wisbom in both of my stubborn ears. He always has a way to sprinkle inspiration along my path when boredom with life strikes me through depression. Whether it's the tranquilizing voice of Sarah McLachlan, or a mistake upon my own actions, he whips beneath my feet and relieves my frail insanity.
And I modestly thank him for his rescues, even though I unconsciously remove the Angels on Earth when I stubbornly feel that being seperated will ease the chaos. In desperately trying to control every aspect of my vitality, I only soak up the endurance of anguish and feel that love and happiness is only a dillusion to content my constant state of frenzy.
But then, God strikes his angels on my firey ground and instructs them to tear up my shield and expose myself of soft tissue and to warm-up my heart with passion.
And again, I thank him with all I have for each day I cautiously overcome. Because for all I know, Heaven isn't equipped with the ability to ascend, and that's all my apprehension desires to witness.
And I modestly thank him for his rescues, even though I unconsciously remove the Angels on Earth when I stubbornly feel that being seperated will ease the chaos. In desperately trying to control every aspect of my vitality, I only soak up the endurance of anguish and feel that love and happiness is only a dillusion to content my constant state of frenzy.
But then, God strikes his angels on my firey ground and instructs them to tear up my shield and expose myself of soft tissue and to warm-up my heart with passion.
And again, I thank him with all I have for each day I cautiously overcome. Because for all I know, Heaven isn't equipped with the ability to ascend, and that's all my apprehension desires to witness.