As the fallen snow turns into ice,
the freezing cold blows me away,
forcing an ice-age into the summer,
where icicles melt in the desert heat,
and water is a burden instead of a relief.
My eyes hurt with burning pains,
the tears have turned into dry salt,
while fire burns my skin to the bone.
I’m blaming the snow-storm in the desert,
for its lack of interest in the growing pains.
Selfishness is always the beginning of nothing,
but when I search for something,
selfishness comes knocking at my door.
My life has never been my own,
no matter how I wrestled with the universe,
it never chose my side in the storm.
Now I’m fighting thin air on the steep slope,
beating me into the thick trees on the road.
As I lay down in the snow and pray,
the daisies cheer me up with their mandolin music,
and the sun warms my face with peace,
until Love breaks the centre of my soul,
and thick teardrops work its way down,
for the broken dreams I never wanted to give up.
Bring back my broken dreams,
and plant them in the ground,
to grow them into rose bushes.
So my dreams will never get lost in the snow,
and my teardrops are not a waste in the universe.
Give them a place in Your paradise,
so Your children can find their way home.
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