if i survive to see tomorrow
unfold its reach onto a page
with broken strokes sketched out in hopeful sorrow
it’s not to see that day reach for the rugged edge
of shredded paper plainly covered in unended words
of wisdom waiting silent somewhere out of sight
within a world of beauty ever gazing outwards
at a mirror to those days gone by in plight
so placidly remembered in their search for yet another side
of truth considered with no questions for a righteous mind
and answers that just seem to plainly hide
in view of lights that only blind
(inspired by the sounds of ‘nor earth, nor boundless sea’, by Max Richter)