When you found pleasure
walking on the bridge of night
you did not breathe in the eyes that cried.  
You gave your heart to the dreams of midnight
all for the want of sighs.

You lived beside the cause of never
in a garden beautiful as the reasons why.
I never mentioned the winds of all your years,
always trusting,
one day you would fly.

You searched for sleep
by haunting ways that no tear
first had been. Time passed
left you singing an endless song
of dreams of midnight on the bridge again.

Your world had no time
where rain fell in crystal showers.
So in vain you burned to become part
of the skies that whispered words of honey
into your every hour.

When you found pleasure
walking on the bridge of night
you found the hand of sorrow.
You gave your heart to the dreams of midnight
while the eyes that cried,
found your tomorrow.