My Mystery

Silent nights and dark moments, Scary paths, and lonely evenings, Just enough for a soul is torment/ I dream of a day when I'll wake up to a delightful place up and above my mistakes, for I labor for freedom, but my freedom isn't free/ Turn on the lights, draw my flaws behind the world's curtains, and look upon my closest / Does it ends when it begins or closes when it opens? In fair flavor, breaks and waits were my days, yet my face fades nay/ And what of love, does it understand the pleasure of giving no chance? I open my eyes to the sight of my adversaries; in their hearts are the list of my cries/ Peace might be a gentle rain, but sadness was the breakfast of my existence/ At this last moment, my mystery sits in glory.