| In the night I hear them
|
| call, Move in the dark, their
|
| shapes unfold, In these eyes I
|
| quiver, darker still In closed doors.
|
| Don’t speak like you were there,
|
| One is here, I feel
|
| its stare Rumoured still,
|
| and hidden by the sightless
|
| Who have seen.
|
| If I lay my head down, Don’t
|
| blame the light’s power, Or those
|
| who claimed it from me.
|
| This time I’m torn, please wake
|
| me if I lose that face. |
| Search in
|
| these eyes. |
| There’s still fire in the
|
| darkness And rooms of light.
|
| Still I dream in greens and
|
| blues, Days that break and skies
|
| that move, Memory’s eyes that
|
| quiver, Bound in spheres of milk
|
| and glass. |
| Don’t speak like you
|
| were there, One is here, I feel its
|
| stare Rumoured still, and hidden
|
| by the sightless Who have seen.
|
| If I lay my head down, Don’t
|
| blame the light’s power, Or those
|
| who claimed it from me.
|
| This time I’m torn, please wake
|
| me if I lose that face. |
| Search in
|
| these eyes. |
| There’s still fire in the
|
| darkness And rooms of light. |