Day

Day is the veil
that you can't pull aside like a curtain
Sewn from a black cloth
a cloth that no-one can see.
No-one can take it away
and you know this for certain.
No-one can help you
you might as well let the cloth be.
You no longer are able to see
you no longer have foresight.
And you can't part the curtain
there's no way to know what's in store.
You're stranded in time
a ghost that is lost in the twilight.
And the curtain is woven
from the memories of time gone before.

Day is blank paper
but paper you never can write on
Unlike the letters I hold
that you sent to me.
But the words that you've written
are buried speaking to no-one
And words that have lost
all their soul should never be.
You knew from the first touch
this way was a pathway to danger.
You didn't take time to close
all the doors and the gate.
Feelings can bring you so near
and then leave you a stranger
And things are not what they appear
but find you too late.

Day is the thief
that you don't have the courage to track down
Who forces himself
into all of the rooms of your home.
He comes to your garden, your secrets
he's quiet! Makes no sound.
He steals all the answers
and leaves all the questions alone.
And you know there'll be days
just like the ones that you once knew.
And you know that love
is really a question of thirst.
And you know that one day
there will by a new power within you.
But you dread all the days in between
that will seek you out first.