Dead eyes still following my dreams
Cold voice still heard at dusk or dawn,
Dry tears awaken me in screams
Old memories still live – forlorn.
And all the pointless words that ring
With deafening silence in my ears
The sins of past to which I cling
While future’s hope blinded by tears.
Time slowly flows and hardly heals
Evasive wish to reconcile
The hurts and lies and cries and shrills –
Dead hope of tortured, blind exile.
I never dreamed of hell before
I never thought that I would mourn
The death of dust stuck at the door
Into new life – entrance forlorn.