Neither alive nor dead, life of dark nor of light.
In this we all but are slight.
Finding peace in things we see.
Wishing it all for us to be.
Loved, lost, but never gone.
For all in sight for all so long.
In dire straits we wait in hollow.
Far away, deep in shadow.
Watching the light in envy and strife.
What is it that makes us come truely to life?
Heart and bone, dust and birth.
How are we to know our worth?
Truth is know for all who we entrust.
Greed, ebony, and lust.
For long await the time we turn.
To light we wait for our selfs to earned.