East and West

As the day rises in the east across the sand storms of a desert,

I see the beauty of the colors of every little begining and end.

Then I look out unto the broken skies.

I see the corruption,

the hurt, the pain. 

I see a torn mother's womb,

the fallen heros that have shed their blood for every small child,

for our future to feel the breeze in your hair.

But where do we learn to open our hearts?

Where does the hurt stop and the good shine through?

How do the tides continue to move in on us?

Deep breath, deep breath.

As I take in my surroundings. 

The girl to the left, so patiently awaiting for an end.

The man at twelve o'clock so lost in his own words.

Why cant the world be so quick to help, and so slow to judge?

How does the mean pick you off so easily?

The ones that so desperately turn to a god that doesnt make sense.

Those who think they know what's going on.

You who believe in truth. 

Where do you begin to know where the hypocrite comes out, and your true face is hidden.

For all I see, is that pity you seem to believe is real. 

Left, right, left..

You pretend to walk as you stumble, but you have to wonder,

Where does this march lead you?

Where do you lay your head as the sun sets in the west.