Coming home

The doors banged and lightened to show the way back home. It warms no matter where I am. As time slowly turns and someone's there is sighing. Mama can you hear your boy crying from here? Please excuse a little while I am here tending my feelings of homecoming.

Now here I am ticking away the moments of waiting, waiting for the destination to end me there.
I wanna soon kick around on a piece of ground in my hometown. I'm tired of lying in the sunshine and here I come to watch the rain.

Home again! I like to be here when I can. When I come home cold and tired, its good to warm my bones besides the fire and hearing the tolling of the iron bells far away across the hills which calls the faithful to their knees and chanting soft magic spells.

Yes this is the dream that I slept with it every night. Tired and adapting to the unknown, here I come to where i belong–my family, my pride. I may roam wherever with whoever or whatever but will always head home which I ask no one but will tell myself where a heart belongs.

Distance closing in, no turning back, final destination is here and the mirage is real now. Tongue is tied or is loosed. Which one do I hug? There is nothing to compare with this.
Its a real state of bliss