Tell me why you always held on
When I wanted to let go
God knows why I snipped your wings
When you wanted to soar
It seems that seasons were our binding force
Perhaps they alone captured the aching of our souls
But are we still left bound and yearning for more?
Or has winter arrived to cover us with snow.
By
Amila Chandrapala
When I wanted to let go
God knows why I snipped your wings
When you wanted to soar
It seems that seasons were our binding force
Perhaps they alone captured the aching of our souls
But are we still left bound and yearning for more?
Or has winter arrived to cover us with snow.
By
Amila Chandrapala
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