Howling to the moon She stares back Coldly and does not respond
I wonder where God went. He was always there before
Flights of Fancy
Blessing and a curse When the gods smile down upon us For their whims of fancy Do not always go in our favor -Kel Dayheart
I'm all out of faith It died a quiet death When I was only eight It was laid to rest Right beside him -Kel Dayheart
Reading the Signs
Maybe I should Take this as an Omen But I have never been The superstitious type -Kel Dayheart
Don't you go standing up for that man's beliefs.
Gold fever Is a disease That never ended In those mines -Kel Dayheart
Second- hand faith Gives me no comfort Like it did my father -Kel Dayheart
She was anointed with dust in silence.
Making Gods Bleed
To break the unbreakable You need to bring it down Off its pedestal And make it human -Kel Dayheart