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Literature Text
Strings on a violin sing in joyful sorrow.
My soul follows their song, uplifted high.
I am no longer afraid of my tomorrow.
The bittersweet melody lets me fly.
My heart is bleeding; hit by an arrow.
It beats resembling a fluttering butterfly.
The emotion makes me strong, aglow,
ready to reach for the morning sky.
~Petra
My soul follows their song, uplifted high.
I am no longer afraid of my tomorrow.
The bittersweet melody lets me fly.
My heart is bleeding; hit by an arrow.
It beats resembling a fluttering butterfly.
The emotion makes me strong, aglow,
ready to reach for the morning sky.
~Petra
© 2013 - 2024 pytryseck
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