Last night the thunder shook me.
the hum of the vibrating windowpanes
got translated in my dreams
to a slight tugging at my jugular vein
it was raining so much, I thought of Noah's warning
and Joseph's voice faintly telling me to run away
staying awake was my only refuge from nightmares,
reminded of judgment, I questioned myself
Why does this heart beat?
when it could just stop and be cold
and die slow with me
when my feeble hand is in Yours.
Why do all the visions bring back
the memory of each sin I've done?
why does my insight reflect
nothing worldly?
My prayer won't delay the moment
but it might stir me in a direction
where you might find me in the middle
of this endless desert.
So I'm writing my deeds somewhere in the sand
trusting the winds you send, as tests
I hope they find acceptance
and leave their marks till I'm called by my name.
So tell me why I've fallen so low
to count my blessings in gold?
what should I do to revile myself? punish myself?
or is it better to sob and whimper at your gates?
No, silence doesn't speak
No, silence never speaks
It's felt on nights like these
It's felt in here, deep.
Perfect!