Of theirs are sad faces rolling out bright suns,
From windows leaning on winter mornings.
Their calls like empty voices,
Pending on their meaningless lips.
As I travel, they ship their bodies,
To places abandoned of breathing hearts.
For lifeless their days has been,
Sleeping on shifting lands.
Missing has been keys in my pocket,
Of wheels those once paved ways.
Here I talk of miles those teach,
Beyond lessons of distances.
As they smile, that sun shines,
It comes peeping through those windows.
And they shiver with happiness,
Pulling out bright faces from deadlocks.
Their eyes find bridges over howling fires,
For places shimmer than ever before.
From sadness to happiness,
Their metal hearts pumps life!
