The light in the distance that is looked up to to keep the fire in the spirit alive is thinning,
The holy light that gives a sense of direction and purpose is flickering and fading,
There’s a sense of sadness and despair in everything I touch and feel,
Every smile is a lie trying to bend the truth of sorrow,
Every reaffirmation is a story to make it all seem okay,
This must be a broken heart at war with itself,
This must be a furious mind trying to get a hold on something to make it feel all right.
The face hung, expressionless and passionless and hopeless,
The body runs, aimlessly and cluelessly and running out of time,
There’s the pain constantly scorching the meat of existence,
Every detour is an escape into the wilderness to feel the sunshine for a while,
Every trip of nostalgia hurts when it feels like I might never feel that way again,
This must be how it feels when dreams die,
This must be how it feels when passion dies,
This must be how it feels when joy dies.
O holy light,
You’d always made me believe that when something has to die, something has to be born,
From the dying sparks of the old light, let a new light be born,
A valiant new light carrying the dreams and passions of his dead brothers,
A valiant new light too strong for the misfortunes and disasters of life to taint and spoil,
The face is hung, expressionless and passionless and hopeless,
The body is running, aimlessly and cluelessly and running out of time,
But I’m waiting for you lost at the crossroads to come and take me home again.