Do you turn away from eyes that sing on nights filled with emotion
Never wondering if you could drown in your imagination
Without understanding all the poetry that dances in your heart
Warming words of choice, in your tongue of fascination

Do your hours exist in a sky familiar with moments such as these
Is there nowhere to look for heaven free of possession
Where words do not cry out to be contemplated by your pen
To become lovely music giving light to your obsession

Can one learn to be absent from this transparent house of glass  
And remove this flowing ink that runs within their veins
Still breathe without giving out a subtle handful of their soul
Each time a word calls out to be painted in a refrain

I cannot turn from eyes that sing on nights filled with emotion
My heaven is this possession in which I freely drown
You may not understand the poetry dancing in my heart
Still I will write, until I become dust, in the ground