If a voice is heard and opens me up
to wandering like a nightmare disappeared;
Than I will know the emptiness of the cup
that glows like failure from my inner tears.
It seems this voice will have me grow bitter
with the travelled roads I must complete.
Inside I might feel the coldness and shiver,
but outside I will not display the defeat.
It's no good pretending it cuts like a knife,
for if so this only indicates surrender to fear.
Best to stay on track and handle the strife,
letting the memories I love staying clear.
I tend to walk down roads quite blindly,
ignoring the signposts that might be a way;
to carefully walk unburdened and so see
that hope is truly a matter of games played.
So I shall learn to listen to my inner voice,
to see if it can lead me to hopeful creeds.
It's true, everything in life is up to choice,
and this reality is the hunger I should feed.
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