Vanishing thoughts
To purely placed words.

In the middle of struggle
I see something awakening;
These bitter blues could fall away like rain.

To the depths of the earth
And the feeling in my chest,
I hold it in my hand.

I can hear the gravel as he drove away,
Ink to paper,
Nothing could make him stay.

The cure to a soul rests in my palm.
From purely placed words
To vanishing thoughts,
These bitter blues could fall away like rain.
I hold the magic in my hand.