I know your pain love. If there’s any one things I am sure about you is that this world has really done you wrong. If there were only one song I could sing about your heart, telling the truth about your concentration. It would have to be, It could only be about the wounds that had made you power less. Powerless to see the happiness and grace swiftly floating on bye. The only sound I can write about in the dark is the sound of your dropping tears on parchment, or pavement or the tile of your kitchen floor. One things I’m sure of is that your wounds are never gonna heal, because they weren’t made by steel but the stolen moments of love painful grip and the torture of families and how they know just how to bring a person down, to hold a spirit down so that it never forgives, never finds time to live, never escapes the instruments of inflicted pain. Never again may I laugh in the night, about something so silly as the wrong clothes in the rain. Never again will I tell all the tales of beauty, and wealth and overcoming youth in the battles of reason and season and rhyme. Never again to take the time to tell all the world of your smiles. For the Wiles of a sorrowful enemy have captured you for the length of this life and they can never get out so I can never get in to see the dreams to hear the wonderful dreams about the screams and the torturesome nigthmare that only seems to come when something incredible promises life within hope. But in the sky so blue at the moment and pink in the corners as the sun reaches how to paint, there are such dreams that you never will follow but were certainly written solely for you. And in the heart that will follow there’s safety from hollow in the real concrete love of this life. No more knives, or nightmares, no more worry filled wonders only marvels and wishes and dares. To the sun that you refuse to acknowledge the dark is just a transition for scenes. Teaming with life the rose on the hill grows larger than the twinkle in your eye. For nothing can die if life is the answer and no love can be lost if you’re the romancer caught up in the dream that is held together by the glue of your indomitable spirit every time we hear it we Jump for Joy. For the dance that matches the song in my heart comes to the part where we stand on the top of the hill with lightning parading its fusion in the distance but we remiss take heed to the moment prayer for no end and whirl in the wind arm in arm, thinking of safety not harm working with whit and full charm, refusing to give into alarm we find the mystery in the shade of the trees and the cool breeze calms the fire of our furious fears remember the years and counting the roughshod our treasure dancing into the wee hours of dawn without a thought or a yawn, the music goes on without whimsy. So flimsy the past that we easily reach beyond it to untie the bonds of time and the hopeless reason found in incorrectable moments, Wrongs set to right in the songs of the night as we reach into light from the dark of the night. We are fearful at first but upon whetting our thirst we shout out with a burst of lyrics and harmonies stronger at first than we wanted to be but it is time to see the joy not as weapon or toy but as truth of a life lived for purpose.