The Dark hounds of a broken night
They run, and scratch, and bite
Relentless and ruthless fear
Of the haunted past come near
Beckoned after the battle lost
Sly as the cat, torment the cost
Why do you come?
I ask in vain
When do you leave?
Remaining naive
When I lie, I write to him
The Old man of hope left to a dream
The promise of a life lived to the end
But on which day do I then depend?
I cannot know and so I must pass
From this day and night to an unwritten last