In the darkness, a dream comes alive,
While in the light, the dream feels dead,
As the fantasy that comes to mind,
Brings words to an empty head,
For in the light the things we see,
Steer us from the dream,
Randomly pushing all the thoughts,
To a point somewhere downstream.
A whisper could end the daylight’s rain,
Could cause the dream, to make sense,
As we use to many things,
To construct the heart’s defense,
A whispered word would bring a smile,
Yet that whisper goes unheard,
With so many things held inside,
The need for a whispered word.
The whisper would hold comfort,
Provide essence to the night,
While these ears strain in the darkness,
With no need to see the light,
A voice is now the music,
Yet with an unfamiliar tune,
That rises from the dreams embrace,
With a whisper, not to soon.
And yet the promise of that whisper,
Is enough to sustain a soul,
That holds on to that whisper,
As a remnant of being whole,
And as the light slowly fades,
The heart holds that voice unheard,
Knowing where completion lives,
Inside, those whispered words.