The daylight is awful dim

with shudders pulled rim to rim;

I'm staring at written words

but their sounds will remain unheard. (Unheard)

And have I known it all along,

of this cowardice and envy?

And is it time that I move on,

breaking free from all that's empty?

It's hard now to run this race

when there is no human face

to call on in times of choice,

with no reassuring voice. (A voice)

And have I known it all along,

of this cowardice and envy?

And is it time that I move on,

breaking free from all that's empty?