Between a worry and a wonder,
In the opus of time, between each day and night.
That spactrum in the drop of dew,
Between the sun and the drop.
A little seed, has grown into tree with flowers.
Between the seed and the flower.
Dusted dreams,
Between the sapience and sin.
Still searching for you,
Between a decision and a mistake.
In the opus of time, between each day and night.
That spactrum in the drop of dew,
Between the sun and the drop.
A little seed, has grown into tree with flowers.
Between the seed and the flower.
Dusted dreams,
Between the sapience and sin.
Still searching for you,
Between a decision and a mistake.
Close up:
"A witty saying proves nothing."
~ Voltaire (1694-1778)"
~ Voltaire (1694-1778)"