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https://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/7a9bbaa52afcbf3f96dd45f7f7d12233.mp3
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For far too long I stood alone,
arms around shadows, skin to stone.
Running in place on hollow ground,
drowning on land, without a sound.
From silent sound I build a room,
a hoarse refrain that won’t be moved.
Let it drift slowly through the years—
persist… resist… against the gears.
So hot a flame it burns as cold,
eternal fire that never folds.
Old anguish smolders in my chest,
consumes the weak and will not rest.
Still thirsting—only laments remain.
Who mourns the one who spoke in vain?
If I have been the wind’s low hymn,
who keeps my name when nights grow dim?
A scar keeps breathing,
the chains reply;
the void invites me—
I stay… defy.
Let silence thunder low,
through endless night it flows.
My burning chest won’t dim or go,
I’ll walk, though no one knows.
If shadow tries to bend my spine,
I break the tethered line—
I’m small, I’m flawed, but still I move,
I will not resign.
Lost and worn, I whisper “pardon,”
offer my heart with nothing guarded.
Sing it louder, pierce the thickened air,
give ears to deafness, lend blind their stare.
Heavy images—pain made art;
down in the pit, a slender spark:
a hand that holds—my “savior,” maybe—
black robes, night eyes, moonlit and weighty.
A presence staying when all else leaves,
old vows return, demand their peace.
“They say what damned you now redeems”—
a nocturne echo that never sleeps.
“Beg, implore, and yield, be still.”
A frigid whisper bends its will.
Yet even in the night unending,
my fragile voice keeps defending.
Let silence thunder low,
through endless night it flows.
My burning chest won’t dim or go,
I’ll walk, though no one knows.
If shadow tries to bend my spine,
I break the tethered line—
I’m small, I’m flawed, but still I move,
I will not resign.
From endless night none may depart…
yet still, my step will not unwind.
If all must cease, then let it part—
and leave my song… behind.