Tendrils of Love, soft tenderness, I am lost in an avalanche of feelings. A blind man weeps, flashes of color erupt, My heart is a volcano sprouting Love. I feel, yes I feel, I feel the love all around, I know the feeling is mutual, But yet the blind man cries out, Even though the colors form a rainbow. I see or rather feel the abundance, Of the love that keeps us sane. Now the blind man is silent, As the colors torment him no more. Is it because he accepts it as it is? Or is it because he knows something I do not? For I too have closed my eyes to reality, Blinded, yet not blind, I seek the truth around. Someday we will sit together, you and I, Without the feeling that something’s gone wrong, The blind man will no longer cry, For he will no longer be blind. I have to reach in me to seek him out, To provide him with the power of sight, For while misery and evil abounds, Happiness is slowly eroded from within. It may be a lonely journey, Or maybe we’ll go together, To find the one truth, The truth which will deliver us from the blind man’s curse.

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