Trite

Give me 4am and dew on the ground,

Whining for no reason or so it seems.

Ideals i dont even know myself.

But i wont be cold anymore.

Let me feel the sun as we are pulled along.

Feel the wind on my back as we look down.

Laugh about noises we try and recreate.

Be the self i dont fear out there.

I believe you a bit more each time.

I feel something new and I desire its presence

And ill do what it takes.

Break down the walls

Collapse

Crumble

Be made not anew,

but free,

loved