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My dawn won’t break until…. « DEPRESSION: my muse

I just love this song and maybe you’ll enjoy it as well.

 

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A good man without a good woman is like a vase with no flowers. My dawn won’t break until my vase is full.

 

I want to feel her brown skin on my brown skin and watch our brown skin in candle light. And my dawn won’t break until skin is one and my suit becomes her suit and we mix down to molecules.

 

The hunter in me is a patience one, my bait is confidence, I am a sportsman and well seasoned. But my dawn won’t break until my prize is place. On my arm and I show the world and I beam.

 

I will walk slowly and steadily, my eyes fixed, the wind behind me, determination has encased me. My dawn won’t break until the empress is on her throne. I become her subject.

 

The rain thunders in and rinses away the sticky grime of failed relationships and the sour after taste of rejection. But my dawn won’t break until that same storm chases away the silence that is my heart. It makes me whole with firm grip to hold on to my new future.

 

With her now here I can see the faint light of dawn breaking. The beat of nature slows and let’s us in, I can feel life running through me. My pessimistic self sees promise. I grab her hand and we watch the sunset.

My dawn won’t break until…. « DEPRESSION: my muse.

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