I've been a nomadic soul, wandering by the woods,
Late at twilight, Often wondering if I should.
Trapped inside a box, We trudge on further,
Opening all the locks, with everyone screaming ******.  

Always pausing to hear a story,
The sound of silence dripping in all its glory,
I hope to hear your melody, An eternal mutation,
Forever a close-whispered conversation.

As I drift about working on the final riddle,
From the darkened blaze, Through the blinding light
Can you hear me reach out to you?