The Seeker

I used to think that home was a haven on a mountain peak

A shelter from the demons that would prey upon the sweet and meek

The bells would ring, the choirs would sing, the sun would shine, our problems they were few

Until I learned the folks we thought were demons were just normal people too

I used to think that home was a man in a florist shop

Tailored jeans, within his means, a beating heart behind a white crop top

Alone his gentle wishes had me reassured our love would never end, oh no

Until his family came into the picture and then I was just a friend

And maybe its a pity

Maybe its a shame