Wings of Desire

My heart is made of water

My heart is made of flame

If it's my own hand that hunts me

Then who am I to blame?

The river rambles as my hand falls through the grain

Of lines that even love and passion cross in vain

The past is made of stardust

The future's shifting sand

If it's my own path that's drifting

Then where am I to land?

And as I try to hold the meaning in my hand

It runs like water through the spaces that expand