Kyala


Kylie

Follow

Kylie
The cold wind blows hard against this mountain side
Across the sea into my soul
It reaches into where I cannot hide
Setting my feet upon the road
My heart is old, it holds my memories
My body burns a gemlike flame
Somewhere between the twin flame soul and soft machine
Is where I find myself again
Kylie, down the road that I traveled
Kylie, through the darkness of the nightmo
All the difference made, by the road not traveled
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow?
Kylie, on a highway in the light
When I was young I thought of growing old
Of what my life would mean to me
for many, a priviledge, denied be
Would I have followed down my chosen road
Or only wished what I could?
Kylie, down the road that I must travel
Kylie, through the darkness of the night
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow?
Kyie, on a highway in the light
Kylie, down the road that I must travel
Kylie, through the darkness of the night
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow?
Kylie, on a highway in the light
Kylie, down the road that I must travel
Kylie, through the darkness of the night
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow?
Kylie, on a highway in the light
Kylie, down the road that I must travel
Kylie, through the darkness of the night
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow?
Kylie, on a highway in the light
Kylie, down the road that I must travel
Kylie, through the darkness of the night
Kylie, where I'm going, will you follow

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Young age should burn and rave at open of day;
Rage, rage against the living of the light.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

To Live, Not Just Survive, Remarkably, Repeat This One Affirmation Every Single Day for the Rest of Your Life The Pursuit of Success

A rare subependymoma brain tumour

Passing for Portuguese: One Family’s Struggle with Race and Identity in America