Seven hundred and twenty nine days,
I’ve been walking across an endless desert,
Both feet feeling the coarse, cold sand,
Eyes on the distant, dead stars.
Losing you took the pen from my hand,
And locked the words from my wrathful mind.
I didn’t know how to speak or write
Without spitting hurtful words.
I didn’t know how to express anger
Without losing someone else.
I never know any stronger feeling than this.
Grief is too powerful to conquer,
So I succumb to the desert's storm
And let it swallowed me whole.
Seven hundred and twenty nine days
The sun decided to come out,
I didn’t know what neutralized my anger
Or what mellowed my sadness,
All I know is this infinite longing in my soul
To be there with you when the time comes.