Change

I try to believe in quiet times,
In Birds that sing and flowers that bloom.
Yet trying to live that blissful lie,
Has let me to ignore the storm of my upcoming doom.

But I do believe in storms that walk by,
Winds that won’t bash against my walls.
Trying to knock down, what's familiar to my eye.
And calling with the destorted voice that is my past.

I learned to believe in a storm that stays,
Leaving false hope and promises where it goes.
Hurting people and pushing them away,
Where time can't come with a rose.

I want to believe in quiet times,
But a calm storm always lies.