It tickles when my hair brushes my neck
Sending shivers down my spine
To keep me in line and I forget
What the sound of my voice is when all I can hear
Is the echo of my thoughts
And I forgot to tell you about the day
That I lost my way and how
You helped me find it.
Sometimes I wish I were a bird
With fragile wings and a song to sing
Each morning, to sound the alarms of
Spring and make it known that I am in fact alive.
I have a tongue that cuts through lies
A blade honed by truth
But it's no use when my words fall
On deaf ears and my smile is met by
Only fear of reality.
It is by this name that I walk the earth
Desperately trying and crying out for the souls
Of the forgotten sons and daughters that
Have no names only graves and stones
Washed clean of an identity by the rain and the
Pain of years that have passed.
In a shell of a soldier I pick up the guise
Of a man on crusade for his faith in what once
Was a trance and now I can
Stop pretending that I have the answers
Before I even know the question.