Poems left unwritten,
Words left unsaid.
Songs to be forsaken,
Ill-conceived - They fade...
I live in scenes from a memory,
Always left frightened by its lights and sounds...
Your elusive silhouette in the corner of my eye,
Reminds me of the peace, I once believed I had.
I lift my head to God above,
I turn to face the dust below...
Sing to me of theoretical hopes you once held fast,
As I cling, forcefully, to my doubts.
And now my tears they fall, as I kneel in the dark.
You pick me up, just as you prove me wrong...
And as the morning arrives, and again your light dawns -
I'll write a chorus of praise in a believer's song.
"Wake me up from the dark dreams I will have,
Hold my hand as I cross broken roads...
And leave me abandoned, all to your praise.
Whispering love, 'til the end of my days."
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