What of that place that is always there and never found,
That place behind the front known only by its sound?
Itís dark and light, and sparkles with a deepest dim,
And when you look outside all you really see is in.
What is it about this place that captivates us all,
And holds us tight in its loose and failing thrall?
There is no escape from this place that has never been,
It has no walls, no fence, and never a guard to be seen.
Prisoners we are, trapped in this vast endless plane,
Held fast to the ground by the arid teardrop rain.
The cries and screams drift as lazy in the breeze,
As songbirds flitting around as carefree as you please.
How my heart is warmed by the echoes of the damned,
As I can hear another against hard truth is slammed.
Hosting by WebRing.