

Hope reigns in a drowning song tonight, gives way to the possibility that no childhood thoughts were true. No bodily pain so cold as the knowledge of ones own faults. Seeing you is a mirror to myself. The night is black and the TV’s blue. Torment the hand that writes these words. Will tomorrow a new voice be heard? Maybe this existence is a dream. Or maybe this dream is existence. How could this be? The night and the stars speak for themselves. The light at the end of the tunnel is strong. I can see your face as it guides the way. Reach out the hand that holds me near. When you speak, its truth I hear. When the music fades and the romance decays and the buildings have fallen down, you’ll find me... and the hope you seek cannot be found, you’ll find me.
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