Closing the Door 

              Joyce Burns

 

 

 

 

 

My footsteps echo down the hall,

but no one hears except the walls. 

Thoughts of you race through my head,

my heart lies broken, my love, is dead.

 

I go out flying on the night,

praying somehow you’ll make it right. 

But night grows old and you don’t come.

I grow so tired I’m finally numb.

 

Sleep, take me home; take me away,

this time the pain’s too much to take. 

Can’t pick the pieces up again . . .

I’m finally broke and I can’t mend.

 

God take me home, and let me rest . . .

shelter me in your loving breast. 

For I have lost my only love.

I’ll go to be a snow white dove.