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.
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