My eyes weep
The truth is so hard to bear
I wish to live only between day and night
It is the dusk that spares my tears
And so too the dawn
Like silk curtains that guard my slumber
Who would find me where time is fleeting
Not cherished
Or written about
Except as a beginning or an end
Where there is expectation or wistfulness
Never contentment
But for this I must pray
The end must be near
So to the beginning of hope
No matter how far the journey
It is only that it exists

Sometimes I want to wake up
But I cannot
I am conscious
Without form
Only feeling
Misty hazy despair
Inside a smoke glass coffin
But not a cocoon
I can see what it is that I am
Though desperation cannot hear me
And freedom cannot see me

Would it be that we were loved
Would it be that nomads had a mother
Would it be that we even knew our own name

Whatever is in my heart will wait
But for what is unknown except for life itself
We are the ones who must hope for a savior
Unnamed but true
For love is all we know
And the worth that man sees in our will to live