February
Thursday 4 March 2010 photo 1/1
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Some say love it is a river. That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love it is a hunger and endless aching need. I say love it is a flower and you its only seed. Its the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. Its the dream afraid of waking that never take that chance. Its the one who wont be taken who cannot seem to give and the soul afriad of dyin´ that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow lines the seed that with the sun´s love in the spring becomes THE ROSE!
Some say love it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love it is a hunger and endless aching need. I say love it is a flower and you its only seed. Its the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. Its the dream afraid of waking that never take that chance. Its the one who wont be taken who cannot seem to give and the soul afriad of dyin´ that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow lines the seed that with the sun´s love in the spring becomes THE ROSE!
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