The fear that comes with chasing the unreal
The silent night with a gripping shrill
The tears that flow ceaselessly on dry faces
The pain that rests endlessly on smiling faces
The truth that is borne as a burden on lying lips
The water that flows on and on, on dry lips

The questions that stare when we try to believe
The morrow that evades howe’er long we sleep
The harvests we meet and are forced to plant again
The races we do but never take a single step

The stories we live to ever retell
The choices we make only to regret
The sands that are worn from our footprints
The songs we compose but never do sing

The boy that never becomes a man
The man that never leaves the boy
The girl that lost her doll
The doll lost in the girl
The truth we know so well
The veil that masks the truth
The lies we love to tell
The tales we tell to lie

The man is his own prisoner so long he loves it so
The change that changes the man lives in him
The time to sleep or wake’s not the cloud’s to say
The eyelids may not be yet he can dream
The time for chance is the time for choice
The choice to die is the chance to live
The dead speak if we give them a voice
The earth’s a sphere for those who believe


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