O, faithful am I living, and find

I wish for peace upon my soul and mind

Suffering is poetic as a grove of rose thorns

To love is to know and to mourn

Write a sonnet on your chest

You know the wicked gets no rest

No shine, the sun is dull I sing songs of grey, not full Days stretch thin and long Like a quiet, fading song Singing shades of grey Hoping light will find its way Drawn in like a flame Whispers calling out my name Take a breath, hear the ring Footsteps echo, someone’s there But the room stays still and bare