There is a swirling inside
A swirling of red and white
And there is a tinge of black as well
The colors are scattered, indistinguishable
At times everything feels right
When I hear your voice, it calms the storm
But the day stirs the still pond
And there's the times where everything feels wrong
There is love, I know it
But the boiling mixture inside
Will not satisfy my confidence
It only threatens to shake me until I fall
Isn't that enough?
What more could there possibly be?
I want to be settled again
I suppose all I can do
Is wait to see what this storm yields
And for your sake and mine
I hope it is the sun...