94 - The Gift

Snowflakes fall upon the blinding desert,
Water turns to glistening sand,
An albatross shrieks above,
In the stormy grey skies,
To all below that may listen.

The newborn will walk,
But not without it's mothers milk,
As the wind blows still so wild,
Opposites as the change of life,
Granite will weather to dust,
An empty barrel of the emotional weapon,
Never to kill a nonexistent mind.

Empty hearts will become fulfilled,
Makes the reaper turn to above,
As the heavens gave you a gift,
That pounds within your heart,
May the love concur the sniffling soul,
Turn stone into something called love,
For the love that may crack the clay,
Will turn to gold...

Those who will cut short,
May as well not have been sown...