PASSION-OF-ALL-ARTS

Travellors, merely wanders upon this gifted earthbound plane, we move ourselves through nights and days On wings of borrowed time, in many colored feathers in glory,oh how they do shine, till the sky splits A voice speaks in whispers hushed our name, time takes our wings as we are moved to walk through A door to a ner afore seen to a higher place. Wounds, hidden and unseen by mortal eye, that we have borne day by passing day in silent screams and quiet cries, Now are touched by Hands wherein is found a mighty healing power, hidden wounds mend to perfection As if they had never been ours, gone those screams, gone the tears from now shimm