I can hear the wind as it whistles
Through my inner spinning cycle
Of questions, as they turn around

I hope the answers can be truth
But doubt is a falling stone
And I feel the weight of a pebble rain
As I am pressed into the dark

I look for the spark of confidence
But it flutters, a bug in a glass
No escape from inside, looking out

I am told they speak a truth
But truth is a promise not yet fulfilled
So how can sincerity be accomplished
In a world full of honest liars