For one day, they shall see me again.

I am everything.
Sullen and damp beneath an endless light.
I am drifting,
and a cold song cleanses the air,
carresses the violet sky.

I am everywhere,
and the empty night is alive,
a shadow of my endless journey,
a beacon on my endless path.
I am gone,
but the gutting, jabbing, stabbing, piercing, prodding, boundless pain remains,
a silhouette behind the light of my many undreamt dreams.

I am a tourniquet,
a pain to kill the pain,
a bitter to sweeten the bitterness,
a failure to justify the failure,
a force to move the force,
a light to darken the light,
a dream to wake the dreamer,
a song to sing the silence.

I am here,
and the darkness of the night in your hair is the song I sing.

I am the seed unsown,
the plant ungrown.
The sleeper who hears the wind in the wind.