To feel alive when the hand knows not its way,
When the shadows of friends keep skipping away
Leaving the tunnel half made,
You will know there’s no getting out
Of this cave without pain.
You will search in vain, following
Freshest air, the inkling of a spark,
The whispers of your prayers,
Only to find fouler darkness
As you fulfill a prophecy you never knew
Opening your irises to find
What tenderness blocks the view
Letting swell bloody tears.