There’s a place of peace and tranquility,
Where I often times must go,
When my mind is sorely troubled,
And I’m feeling sad and low.
A place in silence to shed my tears,
Of hopelessness and pain,
And struggle with these thoughts and fears,
Success I’ve never gained.
But when I’m spent and broken still,
With nothing left inside,
The lulling call of whippoorwills,
Gives cause to set aside,
My fears, my struggles and despair,
My desperate need for cure,
The gentle sound of whippoorwills,
A balm to help endure.
I sit amongst my shattered dreams,
And listen to them all,
A place of peace and hopefulness,
A place where the whippoorwills call.
When finally I must find the strength,
To pick me up and go,
I’ll capture this place where the whippoorwills call,
In my thoughts and I’ll always know,
Their songs will help me live again,
And deal with all I must,
Where the whippoorwills call is where I’ve been,
Their songs I’ll always trust.
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