When I will ever wake up in the promised land
Will I then be able to cross it
Limp as i am a leftbehind
Crumbled and shattered like I was glass
Will my broken soul heal his wounds
When I will return of Flanders fields
From the battle with my broken dreams
And still the larks are singing their songs above my skies
The skies of my thousand thoughts
They couldn’t bring myself together
Not in all those years that are been gone like they where blown in the wind
The wind where I seem to float on
But with whom I never learned to fly
To an uncertain future maybe
The sequel of a broken past
Questions only remain as the scars
Of a young broken bird
Flown to fast
Got to high
Falling hurts only when hitting the ground
Everything that comes on your way laterally is less
Painfully are the mistakes that you make by yourself
The ones that others are to blame for!
They marked the scars !
Laying in the open fields
I watch the larks now singing their songs
Tumbling and playing in heaven
Should they hit the ground if their souls are broken?
I keep on wondering if I will be able to walk again
The least I can say is that I tried
While I am getting richer.