Listen to the sound Of my mind’s mayhem While the monsters of my memories Stare at you, blankly. In your dark room, A refuge and prison at once, A sad, old dream went into Your hear until it blackened. There is God’s picture To pur your faith into And there is God’s existence To put your blame on. Those people call your name But they don’t know What lingers Behind the pale face of yours. They don’t see the vestiges Of sadness and loneliness. Listen to the sound Of quiet whispers. Leave the scars of time Behind.