The Children of God

every night as i sleep,
their faces, innocent faces,
they come back to me....
those deep eyes, they stare at me,
and they seem to ask,
who took, took away
my share of sunshine,
who took, took away
my share of smiles....

why is it this way i live,
whose share of misery,
do i bear and cry,
whose share of pain,
do i continue to sustain....

we....we're the children of God, they say,
yet why did he treat us so different....

time...time they say is a healer,
but their wounds they are getting deeper....
tears...the tears have dried up,
and their vision is so blurred....

till when, till when will we sleep,
its time we open our eyes to see,
its time to feel, for once to be real,
its time we give 'em a chance
chance to bask in the sun,
bring 'em back the innocent time,
their share of sunshine,
their share of smiles,
'cause we're all children of God,
and for sure his creation cannot be flawed.

You catch me on the wrong foot

I thought I'd say,
this is end of it all, never do i wish to see you again,
but then you smile, and in your trap i begin to fall again,
i can only see as you cast your magic spell,
the heart melts heart away,
and you catch me on the wrong foot again.

The right time

Should have jumped off the plane that day,
'cause never were we so high ever again,
When i look back, thats my only regret,
'cause otherwise life has been fine,
but then i thought i missed the right time,
to have escaped this earth's gravity,
and to be in that state,
forever in outer space.

The Mad Man

I sit here alone,
surely not lonely though,
besides the placid lake,
that murmurs as its waves flow,
the darkness here,
it takes away my ego,
and the silence around,
inspires me to think.

Its here that i shake off the mask i carry all day long,
its here in the reflection i find my true being,
its here i am at peace,
in complete unison with the other self.

Each night its here i sit,
trying to answer questions of life,
while the world sleeps sound,
i try to find the direction of right.

And though often you'll hear people say,
a mad man sits besides the lake each night,
holding a candle that burns bright,
now you know the truth alright,
its my Self,
that spreads around the incandescent light.