I feel a restless urge I cannot fight
But must make peace with
I feel a yearning in my soul

Does anyone hear my voice?

It is an arrow shot into the dark,

A museum label
Failing to describe the exhibit

It is a sunrise behind glass.
I want it to be freed
I do not have the tools to free it.
The words I speak
Aren't enough.

I need a sound, a touch, a taste
And more to express even an inkling
Of all I think, and therefore all I am

Do you feel the meaning?

I fear it will never dawn in your eyes.

I fear the light is only dim in mine.