The window’s view is never true,
It seems to lie and hide from you
The reason and the truth be told
of what the window really holds.
Foggy visions in the rain
Often cloud our sight in vain.
Often times you can not see
What window’s view offers to me.
And when the snow begins to rise,
the window’s view begins to hide
The sights we once always saw.
Hidden now by icy maws.
And then the windows lose their glaze
As we pass to warmer days.
The sun streaked view we thought we lost
Has returned, but with a cost.
We must remember the view will change
Just as we do with the signs of age.
As hair goes gray and eyes go dry
The window opens as we die.
With the glass removed from our view,
We see there is still much to do.
The lies have all been pushed away,
Yet we know their is not another day.
We yell and scream and pray for more,
Yet it’s the window that is open and not the door.
The veil is lifted and now we can see
The end of days are meant to be.
I once believed what I was shown
Because it seemed the window knows
Everything there is to view,
Even if it is askew.
The outside world seems too bright
Compared to the windows light.