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The Feelings
It is a chill.
It is an unending, unbelievable thrill.
One that never seems to go away.
One that never seems to grow gray.
One that seems new everyday.
A fantastic flame that burn in your soul.
That cannot seem to be put out no matter the flood,
or the cold.
If it is a dream, you would want to sleep forever.
Instead of waking up to find that it was just a dream.
Never real, never there, never true, never.
It is a voice so angelic that you would thrill to hear it
today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your life.
It is a flower that blooms beautifully in a field of thorns.
One that never dies, but is forever born.
If the time should come that the feelings ends.
Let it not be until the day we are carried away.
© Everton
It is an unending, unbelievable thrill.
One that never seems to go away.
One that never seems to grow gray.
One that seems new everyday.
A fantastic flame that burn in your soul.
That cannot seem to be put out no matter the flood,
or the cold.
If it is a dream, you would want to sleep forever.
Instead of waking up to find that it was just a dream.
Never real, never there, never true, never.
It is a voice so angelic that you would thrill to hear it
today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your life.
It is a flower that blooms beautifully in a field of thorns.
One that never dies, but is forever born.
If the time should come that the feelings ends.
Let it not be until the day we are carried away.
© Everton
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