The nights blend together
like a sunset over the sea,
not vain or insignificant
but a gratifying scheme.

They say it's a requirement
to take on scynicism and snide
but a differnt approach
honesty, love, peace of mind.

We all ask ourselves, why?
why are we here?
to what do we owe general demise?
what is the point of being alive?


Is there a reason, does fate exist
Infinite mystery or is it more simple?
Is Faith the real secret,
in obtaining peace of mind?

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --

Just as the day is decades long
drowning in your objectified song
I cant escape the fury of your mind
Its just a life of being deprived and blind