on mystery
There is no mystery in the flight of the smoke that climbs so high among the clouds filling with doom the vivid blue of the sky that so reminds me of you, or in the fact that my heart bleeds as if cut with a knife whenever hope leaves. But, there is mystery in life... in what makes us want more and keeps us trying to thrive There is mystery in what helps us forget the thunder's roar when we see a bird over the rainbow fly and suddenly disappear into a rain torn sky I, that have sat by the sea... Sign in to see full entry.