Dreaming is the real life,
and living seems the dream,
Heaven awaits, as aftermath,
for the days lost,
at every rising sun.
and Every night,
the stars shine,
but no one seems to care,
at every rising moon,
a soul is lost,
because no one's ever there.
A lonely ear, to listen,
an empty heart, to feel,
a shoulder for a head to rest,
when nothing feels too real,
now memories seem graffittied,
upon the crumbling walls,
the ruins left, just rotting,
and there is where you'll fall.
so look to the skies,
every empty light,
for answers to your pain,
an ever watching eye,
and when the sun sleeps,
you'll never be the same.
and Every night,
the stars shine,
but no one seems to care,
at every rising moon,
a soul is lost,
because no one's ever there.
Written August 1, 2004- From Through Our Hands We Speak From The Heart